Evangelion Terminus
by Jefferson Twilight
Summary: Fifteen Years ago, we got the good end. Third Impact was averted, and the world was saved. However, Humanity is not safe yet. Can we rise to the challenge and defy our ultimate destiny? Longfic will be long, OC heavy, and hopefully enjoyable.
1. Light the Way: Chapter 1 and prologue

They found Kozo Fuyutsuki slumped over the Dead Sea Scrolls after the biohazard alert had been terminated. Since the system had detected an extremely virulent substance in the room which the Scrolls were kept it, the doors did not open until nearly a week later. Even then, all of those who entered wore hazmat suits and were extremely cautious about approaching the unknown factor, the body of Fuyutsuki himself. The room was air tight and environment controlled, so the cold, dry air had staved off decay thus far. This did not prevent the body from being a ghastly sight however, because when SEELE said something was extremely virulent, _they meant it._ Fuyutsuki's cause of death would later be attributed to multiple organ failure; whatever virus had been released had killed him quickly but probably not quickly enough. As they were removing his body from the room, a note fell from his once clenched hand. It was inspected by SEELE, determined to be of no value to them, then sterilized and sent to its intended recipient. It read, in the hasty handwriting of a dying man:

_Regret is the specter of doubt. _

_I leave this world with no doubt, _

_and therefore, no regrets. _

_Give to Gendou._

Two weeks later Shinji Ikari arrived in Tokyo-3 with a single suitcase and a picture of Misato Katsuragi. It was perhaps the beginning of the end.

Or, as per Kozo Fuyutsuki's last thoughts before death greeted him, merely the end of the beginning.

Evangelion Terminus: Light the Way

63.59% of the Earth's adult population held their breath as the leaders of the world's three current superpowers prepared to make their final decisions. The combined might of each nation was poised to strike at a moments notice. The president of the United States cleared his throat to speak, and the UN conference room went utterly silent.

"As you may already know, there was an explosion over Siberia early this morning." The silence deepened. "Early warning systems detected a meteor approximately 250 feet in diameter passing through our part of the solar system some days ago. From its original trajectory, it would have passed by Earth with at least 200,000 miles to spare. Yet, it veered drastically off course some time last night, evading all of our orbital defenses only to detonate with the force of five N2 mines in the atmosphere at 3:44 AM this morning GMT. Initially, The Russian Federation suspected an Evangelion class attack from either The Chinese government or NERV Japan.. Well..." The president said shakily, "We have determined the nature of the assailant. Doctor Weller, if you would please."

A tall, clean shaven man with close cropped salt and pepper hair stood from a seat next to the president. He lifted a briefcase cuffed to his left hand and opened it carefully. Taking out a folder, he removed a single, grainy photograph, and a message marked with NERV's seal.

"Blood pattern detected as blue. It is an Angel."

**Chapter 1: A Call to Arms. **

September 17th, 2030 started out very differently for each of the three teenagers. They had all seen the previous night's emergency broadcast. They all had some idea of the disaster to come, yet, none of them knew what part they were to play in it.

The men in suits came at noon GMT. For the Sixth Child, this meant a very rude awakening at five in the morning. Antonio Guerra's home in Arizona was rarely quiet, but this morning it was _extra_ loud. This was mainly due to his mother's screaming torrent of Spanish, telling him to get up because he was in serious trouble with the police.

"_Well," _thought Antonio groggily, _"We're Mexican. Are we ever cool with the police?"_

Stepping out of his room shirtless and yawning, the Hispanic teenager's jaw dropped when he saw the two large men in sunglasses and very expensive looking suits standing on his doorstep, a black, unmarked SUV still running in the street.

"Are You Antonio Guerra?" the man on the left said. Antonio visibly gulped, and chanced a look at his mother. She looked concerned, but nodded at him.

"Y-yes." He finally managed. The man on the right tapped a few buttons on a smartphone, and then gave a slight motion back to the SUV.

"You'll be coming with us then." said Left. Antonio looked like he was going to hyperventilate, and Right's features softened a bit. "Information is on a need to know basis right now, and you only need to know two things. First; you aren't getting arrested. Second, this has to do with your father's work."

Antonio looked confused.

"My Dad's a plumber." Left smiled thinly.

"Your biological father, Antonio."

000

They came for the Seventh Child during lunch hour at her school. It was raining that day, but it was always raining in what remained of the British Isles. Helen Guest was sitting at one of the cafeteria tables, a cluster of other students around her, watching something on the table intently. It seemed that the whole student body currently at lunch was waiting for whatever was about to happen at the table with Helen. There was a clatter of something hitting the table, and then a cheer exploded from everyone around the cafeteria. Even the lunch ladies were clapping some.

The agents looked around puzzled. It was several minutes before one of the teachers came around to speak with them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" the teacher asked, quite curious as to why a pair of very well dressed secret agent types were in the school.

"Yes, you can. We were wondering what was with all the commotion earlier. Also, if you may, could you point out a Ms. Helen Guest to us? We need to speak to her. NERV Business." The agent flashed a badge.

"Oh dear." The teacher said. "Well, the whole thing has to do with Helen, actually. She has an odd habit of confronting bullies and other Na'erdowells in the school. She'll challenge them to a game of chance, and if she wins, they shape up. If she loses, she'll do whatever they want for a day, no matter what."

The agents looked at each other.

"Has she ever lost?" One of them finally said.

"Not to this day! She's had over 30 matches, each one a win."

The other agent paused for a moment.

"Then, well... Does she cheat? I mean, there's no way you can always win at dice."

The teacher smiled knowingly.

"She plays a different game every time. Dice, Poker, even a slot machine one time. She always wins. Here's the icing on the cake: She always has her opponent pick the challenge. She's truly lucky, or truly crafty. None of us can tell the difference."

000

At the New Vatican in Geneva, School is just letting out. The Eighth Child is to go from a day of learning to an evening of quiet contemplation, and unlike just about any other boy his age, he's perfectly fine with this. His name is Peter. Just Peter. He knows he was found and raised by the church, and that he is to be a man of God. No, not the God that man defeated 15 years ago, but the God that is in Heaven, whose son walked the Earth and gave us his teachings. Peter sometimes wondered though. He knew that his wonderings were wrong and unjust, but he still did it. Sometimes, when he was bullied by the other boys, or when he read about what was "Justifiability" done to heretics in ages past, or heard of another priest leaving the church, he just couldn't see why everyone believed so fiercely.

"_How can you believe in God when we have never seen him? How can we believe in God when we have killed one? __**HOW CAN WE BELIEVE IN GOD WHEN HE DOES NOTHING FOR US?**_**"**

The echoes in his head had recently reached a fever pitch. He had resolved himself to talk to a Bishop about the matter, and his appointment was today. He was certainly scared, but he knew a man of true faith would put him on the right path again. As he rounded the corner to the Bishop's office, he saw two men dressed in black suits speaking to him. The bishop was obviously agitated, and when he saw Peter, his eyes widened. The two men turned, and seeing the boy, headed towards him. The Bishop yelled in faltering English.

"Do not lay a hand upon him! You can-not take him! He is not yours! _He belongs to God!"_

"Father." began one of the Agents in flawless Italian, "If he doesn't come with us, You'll be seeing God soon enough, and not on your terms. Now either the boy comes with us peacefully, or we take him by force." The Bishop paled, visibly deflating.

"Now, Peter, was it? Please, come with us. We have a lot to talk about on the plane trip."

000

In Tokyo-3, Japan, a single American sits in a darkened arcade. He plays a fighting game for hours, before finally leaving at nearly 10 PM. He walks back to a highrise apartment building, and after taking the elevator to the top floor, opens the door to an expansive condo. To his mild surprise, there are two men in black suits sitting in his living room waiting for him.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you? I wasn't expecting guests, so I don't really have anything ready for you. I could get some coffee, or..." One of the agents removes his sunglasses and smiles at the American.

"We don't have much time for pleasantries, I'm afraid, otherwise I would take you up on the coffee. It's been a long, LONG day. We need you to pack your things and come with us. NERV America has officially requested your services, and they aren't going to take 'I'll be along later' for an answer. We're currently tracking the angel as it advances across the Pacific, and as we thought, it's going straight for NERV Houston. It knows what's there. We've found and gathered the Three we know of, and we hope we can stop it."

"So, what does NERV need me for? They know I'm just a wash-up nowadays." The man stated, hoping he wasn't right about why they wanted him back after all these years.

"They've commissioned you as a Colonel and placed you in charge of combat operations. You're the best they know of when it comes to killing Angels, even if, well..."

"I get it, I get it. Gimme half an hour, and I'll be down with what I need. Just give me some breathing room in the meanwhile, alright?"

"Colonel" Thomas Rydell put some classic rock on his stone age MP3 Player, and got to work packing, as he hummed along to the music. Through the rest of the evening, from the car trip to the airport, to the plane ride, and through the eventual mission briefing, one thought lingered in his mind.

_God help me, Katsuragi, I've taken your job. _

000

Already halfway across the pacific, the Angel glides smoothly over the red ocean, the water roiling below. A dissonant chorus fills the air around the Angel, and it calls out to the stars.

_**I have found him. I have found our father's brother. Come, brothers, and rejoice, for I have found him.**_

There is silence for a the heavens themselves thunder.

_**We have heard you, brother. We shall come, and we shall rejoice in oneness once more. **_

The angel cruises in silence for a time.

_**And the Lilium?**_

The heavens boom.

_**Purge the sinners from the house of God.**_

The Angel picks up speed, its glorious mission to be fulfilled.

000

New Houston was a large city, even by pre-Second Impact standards. With nearly 12 Million residents, the city was a sprawling metropolis. Even without the benefit of the Gulf of Mexico, there were still things going for the city, namely, the safety associated with having the world's second Geofront and NERV's current headquarters situated in close enough approximation to you that no-one would ever try and attack. It never occurred to most people that the reason NERV wanted Houston to be safe was because there was something EXTREMELY dangerous being kept there.

People rarely trifle with the details, especially when there are lots of nice government jobs to be had.

Late that night, the Seventh and Eighth Child were escorted off their respective airplanes, exhausted, jet lagged, and utterly confused. They'd been given a basic rundown of what was happening, but not any more than what the press knew about the Angel. By the time they had made their way to the Geofront, both Helen and Peter, though in different subway cars, were both about ready to simply keel over. In fact, as the subway pulled up in synch on either side of the NERV rail terminal, they stumbled out at about the same time.

However, Helen had the raw misfortune of being in heeled shoes at the time of her pick up, and as she stumbled out, one of her shoes gave up the ghost and she fell headlong into Peter. With a deft spin at the sound of the heel snapping, Peter barely managed to steady himself and the girl, saving them both a nasty tumble. Sighing in relief, Peter tried to get her back on her feet, only then seeing that it was a young woman he was holding... Embracing... err...

Her face was right next to his. That was awkward. What was more awkward was that his hand was on her rear, trying to keep her from falling over.

"Could I please get a hand over here?" He manged, utterly red in the face.

"Seems you've got the situation under control, big guy." Said the Agent who had escorted him back from Geneva. "You might try buying her dinner next time you wanna feel her up though."

Peter went from beet red to somewhere approaching "Steam out the ears". The girl, now dead weight in his arms, was snoring softly.

"_God, what have I done to deserve this?"_

000

Meanwhile, Antonio, who had arrived hours earlier, was staring at a 30 foot tall Gunmetal gray and matte black face hovering above a pool of Orange liquid.

"So, this is my 'Father's' work?"

Dr. Weller nodded to him.

"So, what, I have to Pilot an Evangelion?"

Dr. Weller nodded again.

"You crazy man. No way in hell I'm gonna step into that thing just cuz you want me to. I know what happened last time you put kids like me in those things to fight Angels. Only one of 'em ever made it back."

The Doctor sighed.

"Do you want everything you have ever known and loved to vanish in an instant? Do you want the summation of mankind to be erased instantly, and eternally?"

"Not really, Vato. But you gotta get someone else, alright? I'm just not feelin' it, okay?" Antonio's neck hairs bristled every time he looked at that face. It seemed to be leering down at him, mocking him.

"We do have others. There are supposed to be Five Children. You are the Sixth Child, first of this generation. The Seventh and Eighth are on their way right now, and we are still looking for the other two. But we need you as well. Nobody else can Pilot this Unit but you. It was _made_ for you, on your father's orders."

"So, where's my old man, then? Mom says he died right after I was born. You said this was made on his orders, so where is he? What kind of ass doesn't even call his own son?"

"The kind that's been dead for 15 years."

Antonio's mouth made an 'O'.

"Your father had cancer. It was the incurable kind, and by the time he found out about it, he had six months left to live. So, in a gambit and a rush of what even I might be convinced to call Mad science, your father created the world's second fully functioning AI supercomputer; The Quincunx. It was modeled directly after his own brain, and it's probable it has more potential processing power and learning capability than the MAGI.

Antonio just looked confused, and Weller added.

"Your father more or less turned himself into the supercomputer that's been running our base for the last 15 years."

"Now you're making sense."

A klaxon blared for a moment, and a man's voice echoed throughout the hangar.

"All personnel, the Angel is approaching. T-minus 3 hours 15 minutes before it arrives at base. All noncombatants are to find shelter. This one is going to get messy, folks."

"I need to go back up to the bridge. Antonio, you can try and get some sleep, or you can get acquainted with the Evangelion's control systems. I personally suggest the latter, because at least then you'll have some idea of what you're doing when you go out there. " the Doctor turned to leave.

"Is 'not going' an option?"

"I wish it was, Antonio, I wish it was."

000

Up on the bridge, Colonel Thomas Rydell gave an appreciative whistle.

"Just like the one back in the old Geofront. The more things change..." Of course it was the same as the old one, since they'd used the exact same Geofront construction plans and everything, but... It sure did feel strange being back here. And _here_ of all places. Thomas always thought his place would be on the battlefield to the day he died.

_Guess not, eh, Katsuragi?_

He looked over his command station. Brand new. There was even plastic wrap covering his chair. He removed it and sat down, the chair not even squeaking under him.

He turned on the computer in front of him. He had to be on the bridge since they were under Alert status 1, but he'd go crazy with boredom if he had to just sit there for another 3 hours.

_Dammit, where was it again? No, not here... Not that folder either... Come on, come on...!_

_Jackpot._

Sitting in a file that should've been deleted years ago was a folder with a gibberish name. Inside were old documents written in Japanese, and... A folder labeled "Battle strategies" in English. Opening the file, Thomas found exactly what he was looking for: a cache of ancient flash games. Opening some kind of Tetris knockoff, he began humming to himself.

_Maybe I should start drinking, too. No, that level of similarity would just be creepy. I'll hold it off to this for now. We'll see what happens in a few weeks though._

000

New Houston had been safely evacuated by 3:10 AM, the estimated time the Angel would arrive at. The streets were barren, the traffic lights blinked red in all directions, and all was quiet.

Then the chorus of dissonance began.

If anyone was still above ground, they would have heard a voice boom in their minds.

_**Hear me Lilium, I call for the day of reckoning.**_

_**Spawn of the Traitor, Progeny of the Deceitful.**_

_**Your kind shall be reduced from whence it came**_

_**Ashes to Ashes, and Dust to Dust. **_

_**For I am Abruel, The Power of God. **_

_**And none shall stand before me unbroken. **_

"What the _hell_ do you mean Unit 09 isn't reacting to the Eighth Child? I don't know how to fix it, but for Christ sakes DO IT. The Angel's right over us and if we send out Antonio alone, shit is gonna _hit the fan._" Thomas slammed the phone next to his chair back down on the receiver. Why did the Director have to be on NERV Luna at a time like this? He _hated _responsibility.

"Alright," He muttered to himself. "The Sixth Child is ready to go. The Seventh Child is out cold asleep and we can't wake her, and the Eighth Child's Evangelion won't react to him. Absolutely _awesome." _Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Do we have a visual on the Angel yet?"

"Yessir."

"Put it on the main screen, no Zero Wing references please." Everyone looked at him, a bit baffled.

_I hate it when they don't get my jokes._

The main screen did in fact turn on, showing a gigantic V-wing like being hovering right over the ground level entrance to the Geofront. From the lower levels of the bridge, one of the lower ranking officers called out: "AT field pattern is changing!"

Everyone on the bridge looked on with terror as the angel morphed from a simple flying configuration, to a bipedal form that would be more capable of fighting an Evangelion. Thomas always wondered why they looked so surprised After a while, it just became a habit to expect nearly everything. Boy, they'd be in for a shock when they saw something _really _unusual.

...Like, when seconds later, NERV Houston Switched to Auxillary power, and every light across the city went out. Framed against the night sky was a colossal being wrapped in pure plasma, its mere ambient heat enough to melt skyscrapers as it passed.

"Dammit! So they're not gonna go easy on us, huh? Well, let's pull out all the stops for them, too! Bring the Rail guns around and give 'em Hell!" Thomas barked.

"Sir, the Rail guns are offline! We can't get power anywhere but here! It's almost like... The thing is draining our electricity faster than we can produce it!" said Lieutenant Royce Folkertz, directly below Thomas on the bridge.

Thomas slammed his fist on his desk.

"Is there any way to deploy Unit 06? We've got no other choice right now but to send him up."

"Sir," said Lieutenant Maxwell Todd, "The Magnetic lifts are out of service, and with the Evangelion units in storage, their batteries are virtually empty. Not to mention, the Angel would perhaps just drain them of power if they came anywhere near it.

_Think. Think, Come on! Channel that Katsuragi! Come on crazy plan, __**COME ON!**_

"What do we have for backup power supplies? I'll need everything that isn't keeping the base functions of the Quincunx running. If this is gonna work, We need to act fast before the thing bleeds us any more!"

A few quick calculations, and Lieutenant Alex Hayer rattled off a series of numbers.

"In English please!"

"We've got 15 minutes of full operational power left, 22 hours on Auxillary."

"How much sheer wattage could we send out if we let it all in one burst?" Thomas had a mad grin on his face. Anyone who had seen him like this knew it meant trouble.

"I, uh... About 1.2 Terawatts, Sir. That's emptying everything we've got and then a little, with just enough to keep the Quincunx online in sleep mode."

"How long will that burst last?"

"I don't know... Maybe 40 microseconds? 50 tops. Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Granted."

Why the hell are you asking- Oh God. No way. You can't seriously be thinking of-"

"That," Thomas said, "Is exactly what I am thinking of."

000

In minutes, the power flow from the entirety of NERV was shut down, and the generators stopped sputtering under the strain and resumed normal operation. All of the power in NERV, from heating and cooling to Hydroponics, was placed in a series of backup circuits. After nearly 10 minutes of charge up time, the bridge was dark except for a smattering of computer terminals.

"Release the charge."

The entire bridge clustered around the sole video feed from topside. An electric crackle went down the screen, and then a rather perturbed looking Angel, wondering why it was coming up dry, got just over a Terawatt of pure electricity to the face. It sparked, crackled, and screamed in a choir of agony before launching itself into the night sky. There was a brief moment of silence, and then the night became day. A twisted, burned mass of Angel fell out of the heavens, landing several miles outside New Houston proper. As systems began to flicker back to life one by one, A hoarse cheer rose from the bridge bunnies. Then, a strangled yell.

"Still detecting AT field Signature! It isn't dead yet!"

A voice exploded in their minds and raw fear crawled down their spines.

_**Spawn of Lilium! Salt of the Earth!**_

_**You have debased my form with your mockery of God's Lightning. **_

_**I shall not fail, I shall not falter**_

_**My purpose is clear **_

_**You will be annihilated**_

_**Utterly **_

_**and **_

_**completely**_

_**ANNIHILATED.**_

As the lights came back on fully on the bridge, they could hear the muffled sobs of some of the crew.

"We're... Going to die. All of us." said Lieutenant Samantha Rey. She collapsed crying into her chair, and if Thomas had to guess, most of the bridge was about to do the same.

"Alright. So, we're going to die, are we?" He said lightly.

"So _WHAT?_ So what if we do! We all go eventually, some sooner, some later. Maybe all of us at once, if that goddamn monster gets its way. I'll tell you this, though! No way we're going down crying in some damn hole in the ground! As long as those kids are alive, we've got a chance. Patch me in to Antonio!"

With a few taps on the keyboard, Lieutenant Hayer patched Thomas through.

"Hey, Kid. I hear you don't want to pilot that thing. Right?"

Antonio nodded silently.

"Well, I can understand that. How about we have a quick chat before you go out? I think it might help.

"What do you mean you understand it? You're sittin' there all safe and sound while I haf'ta go out and kill the damn thing!"

"I say that I understand, because I _do_ understand. Evangelions are frightening. I was just as scared as you were the first time I piloted one."

Every single head on the bridge turned in unison. A chorus of "What did he just say"s echoed from every part of the room, and Antonio looked disbelieving over the screen.

"No way."

"Yes, Way."

"You mean you were... Were the one who beat up ADAM and saved the world? That is crazy, homes."

"The very same. And let me tell you, those things _are_ freaky. But that just makes you the bigger man for actually piloting it." Antonio paused for a moment, deep in contemplation.

"Will saving the world get me laid?"

"Damn Skippy. So, will you go out there and save humanity, or will you keep messing around and asking questions? We've got time for questions later, but there won't be a later if you don't hurry and kill that Angel."

Antonio nodded.

"Alright then, I'll do it. Get me ready."

000

"LCL Pressure normalized!"

"Plug Depth holding steady!"

"All Synaptic connections stable!"

"Synchronization rate at 49.6%! That's a miracle for his first Synch!"

"All Systems Green! We are clear for Launch!"

"Alright! Evangelion Unit 07, Launch!"

The magnetic rails blasted the Evangelion up to the surface at hundreds of miles per hour. With a sudden halting jerk, Unit 07 cleared ground level. Several blocks ahead of it was the still smoking, still regenerating Angel. The magnetic locks on the Eva detonated, freeing it.

"Can you hear me Antonio? This is Thomas. First thing's first, get a feel for walking, _then _kick its ass. Once you get the basic motions down, then try actually fighting. Don't try any fancy stuff you hear me-" Before Thomas could finish his sentence, Antonio had successfully performed a standing backflip. As he stood there on the bridge with pursed lips, the Pilot brought out the progressive knife.

"Oh God homes, they come with knives? Too. Damn. Sweet. You should have told me that earlier!"

Eying the Angel in front of him, Antonio brought up the knife and got into a crouch.

"You're goin' down, Puta."

The Angel lunged at Unit 07, and Antonio deftly evaded it, slicing across the angel's arm with the Prog knife. It left a shallow gash that began to smoke from the monster's rapid regeneration.

"So how do I kill this thing? Looks like my knife isn't doin' much!"

Thomas chuckled over the voice comm line.

"You have to aim for the core, hotshot. Break it, and you kill the Angel."

"Sounds easy. Is it the big red thing in the middle?"

"Probably. Be careful though, sometimes those things have-" A brilliant flash lit up the view screen and Antonio let a a muffled "HHGGURRRRK" before Unit 07 was tossed back several blocks by a massive cross shaped beam.

"-Lasers." Thomas finished, sighing. "Kid, you better end that thing fast. You lost your cable in that last one, you've only got a few minutes of battery life left."

Antonio rose and winced.

_So I guess I feel what the robot feels. Makes sense. Okay, let's mop this thing up!_

He gripped the controls and dashed forward, shoulder tackling the angel and sending it sprawling. With a vicious kick to the monster's side, he flipped it over, exposing the core.

A voice shot through Antonio's mind, and his blood nearly froze.

_**Filthy Lilium! How dare you assume the form of God!**_

_**You shall be punished by the heavens themselves**_

_**They shall make right if I cannot!**_

_**Know only that you prolong your death by choosing this route**_

_**True salvation lies in surrender to the power of God**_

_**Only then shall you be cleansed of the sins of your mother!**_

"Pendejo, your first mistake was coming here-" Anotnio growled, jamming the prog knife into the Angel's Exposed core.

"Your second was insulting a Mexican with a knife!" And with that, Antonio turned the prog knife on and twisted. With a chorus of suffering, the Angel contorted up into a ball, and then exploded in a suitably dramatic fashion. Blood rained down, and everyone on the bridge cheered.

"Lordy, what have I gotten myself into." Thomas muttered as he slumped down into his chair.

"At least we're off to a better start than last time, right, Katsuragi?"


	2. Light the Way: Chapter 2

"You mean to tell me," said the Operations Director of NERV, "That you fried 8000 miles of expensive, internal wiring, almost shut off the Quincunx, and spent 85 billion dollars worth of electricity to kill the what you believe to be only the _first_ of these Angels?" Thomas shrugged rather sheepishly. The Operations Director chuckled and straightened the paperwork in front of him.

"I see you still have your flair for the dramatic. Please keep it up, Colonel. We can all use a little cheering up what with the situation we're in right now."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"Why the hell don't you shave that beard off? It bothers me to no end to see you looking like that."

"Well Thomas, would you believe it irks my father just as much? Plus, my better half says it makes me look more masculine."

"Well I'm sure it helps you get allowed into Bed and Breakfasts."

"Thomas, that is not very amusing."

"You're right. You got barred from a bed and breakfast with your wife because you grew your hair out a bit. They thought you were having a lesbian affair. That, my friend, is _hilarious._"

As much as it irritated Shiro Miura to hear his long time friend drag that incident back to light (God was that ever embarrassing), the way he told it still made him smile.

"So, I don't suppose you could look into getting past the lock down sector of NERV Japan's HQ?" Thomas inquired. He doubted it, but it never hurt to ask.

"Sorry, but there are some things even I can't manage. Whatever's still down there is down there for good. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to let that one rest, Colonel.

Thomas smiled as he got out of his seat.

"Well, it was worth a shot. Thanks for the time, Commander. I do appreciate catching up."

"Likewise, Colonel."

As Thomas left the office, he grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He wasn't going to let this one rest. He couldn't... just let it rest. Something was down there. Something he needed to find. He just needed to figure out what.

**Chapter 2: Welcome to New Houston.**

Antonio Guerra woke up under an unfamiliar ceiling. This in itself wasn't really a bother; but the fact that he was in the same bed with a humongous snoring Catholic guy _was. _He rolled out of the bed, amazed to see it was just after 9 AM.

_Geez, man. They let a guy sleep in pretty well here. I could get used to this!_

He put on a fresh set of clothes, both amazed and slightly bewildered by the fact his laundry wasn't wrinkled for a change. That meant...

"They do your laundry for you! Awesome. This has gotta be the best gig ever!" Antonio nearly shouted. Peter stirred, but then drifted back into jet lagged sleep.

_Awhups, sorry big guy. Didn't mean to be so loud. _

He padded out of the room in his socks, moving down the hallway to the bathroom. He knocked, so as to avoid the unfortunate possibility of seeing another guy's package, he waited for a moment before entering. Oddly, the shower was running and it was awfully steamy.

"Who left the shower running? That just isn't cool..."

As Antonio went to turn off the shower, twenty pounds of irate, warm water penguin slammed into his stomach, bowling him over. Boy and penguin stared at each other for a moment. Antonio got up wordlessly and sprung a leak, while the penguin went back in the shower, likewise wordless.

He made the motion to flush when there was an angry "WARK" from inside the shower. He decided it would be best not to chance it.

Zipping up and leaving the restroom, Antonio came face to face with Thomas Rydell.

"Scuse me, but what are you doing here?" the pilot asked.

"Well, We sort of live here in the same NERV owned apartment."

"Homes, you're shacking up with a couple 15 year olds, an' one of 'em's a catholic choir boy. Does anybody else find that a little off?"

"Nope! Not at all!" said the pretty girl as she made her way to the bathroom in only a nightgown.

"Homes, you got some issues."

Thomas smashed his palm into his face.

"Look, Antonio. This is tradition among pilots. 'Everyone stays at the Combat Operations officer's apartment, we all get along, we make friends, and we kill some Angels'. And yes, The penguin is part of the tradition too." There was a flush, a feminine scream, and what Antonio approximated to be penguin swearing coming from the bathroom. Peter opened the door to the hallway, and sleepily stepped out, only to nearly be barreled over by a screaming, sopping wet Helen, whom he caught deftly for the second time in 24 hours.

"T-t-THERE'S A PENGUIN IN THERE!" She stammered, and as Peter looked down at her, he went fire engine red.

"Is this a tradition too?" asked Antonio dryly.

"Sadly," said Thomas, "it is."

000

18.

That was the number of anomalous objects that had escaped from the asteroid belt, and were currently on collision course with Earth. Their distances were staggered, and some were accelerating or decelerating with no apparent cause or reason.

"They're almost certainly the Angels." stated Dr. Weller in a manner of fact tone in front of a group of assembled NERV officers. "The first of them may be here in less than ten days. The last, perhaps six months or more. We need to be prepared." The Doctor continued, almost in monotone.

To be perfectly honest, Dr. Weller really didn't care about humanity. He'd seen enough of its underbelly to realize that maybe having humanity gone wasn't such a bad thing after all. Of course, he wasn't going to overtly sabotage NERV, after all, they gave him money to do what he loved to do. But, if the world was going to end, he wanted a front row seat, and that front row seat could only be provided by NERV Houston. Thus, why he was giving a powerpoint to some bored looking junior officers.

Maybe later he could do some real science, but for now, this menial task.

000

The three children walked to school. It was a late start, seeing as they'd had an attack just the previous night. Around them, the various buildings of New Houston rose from the Geofront below. A sweet breeze rustled through the trees lining the sidewalks, and for a moment, all seemed right and decent with the world. Then, as they rounded the corner to the school, they heard shouting, and saw a group of kids clustered in a circle around something, or rather, someone. There was tall, gangly boy getting the tar beaten out of him by a shorter but far stockier boy in athletic gear.

"And _that_ is for looking at me funny, Nancy! With a solid _thump _of fist on face, the boy was knocked to the ground a final time before the stockier kid leaped off him, and casually walked away from the scene.

The boy wiped at a bleeding nose as the crowd dispersed. Helen rushed over to him, but Peter and Antonio stayed back. She yelled over to them.

"Sorry, I've got my reasons." said Antonio, all the while eying the other kids on the school yard. Peter just looked nervous.

"But, homosexuality is against God's will-"

Helen nearly facepalmed.

"Just because they called him a Nancy doesn't mean he's gay, come on Peter!

The gangly boy finally seemed to find his legs and stood up.

"It's okay, Miss. I'll be fine in a few hours. Thank you for your concern, though." He hefted his backpack over his shoulder and trudged off to the school building.

Helen was nearly shouting at Antonio as they walked inside.

"Why wouldn't you help him? Come on, those guys nearly beat him unconscious! Aren't you going to do something!" Antonio put his index finger up to quiet her down . This only appeared to make her more irate, but the Hispanic pilot grabbed her arm and gave it a none to kind squeeze before she could say anything else.

He pulled the others off to a corner for a moment before class started.

"Okay, maybe you two could use some street thinking before you barge in there. So, that kid obviously had a thing against Nancy out there. Notice how not a soul went to help him? Prolly because he's on the bad side of someone you don't wanna mess with, or because he's done something seriously bad. Either way, we don't wanna get involved. Now, let's just do school, okay?"

The day went by uneventfully until Lunch. Antonio wound up at the same table as Helen and Peter, and as they sat down, She was still giving Antonio the cold shoulder.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, I dug up some stuff on him. His name is Eric Greenway, and he's a serious oddball. They said he sometimes has these... Fits. He'll look all funny and smiley and then say things that will totally rock your world. Like, the reason he's getting punched around? He said in front of pretty much the whole school that the guy who was beating him up was batting for the other team. Now the kid's on the warpath, taking care of anyone who'd stand up for Eric. Can't really say I blame him. Something like that can kill your rep dead forever if you let the rumor grow. "

"So he's beating a kid up for calling him a puff. Why didn't he just deny it, punch him once and call it quits?" Helen asked, still thoroughly irritated with Antonio's belligerence to help.

"Did I mention he circulated... 'Photographic Evidence' around the school beforehand?"

Helen made a silent "Oh".

"So, my whole point is, the kid set himself up for this. If he's gonna get pummeled, he's gonna get pummeled. Not much we can do."

Helen stood up, a dangerous look in her eyes.

"Maybe not you, but I can."

000

After school that day, Eric walked out of the building as casually as possible.

_Not like it matters. They'll tell him where I am anyway. _

Sure enough, the stocky kid came barreling out of the gym before Eric had made it halfway to the edge of campus.

"Hello, James." Eric said lightly.

"I told ya, I'm gonna keep beating the ever loving shit out of you until you leave this school, Nancy. I'm a pretty generous guy, or else I would've sent you to the hospital already. Not sure if I'm feeling so generous right now.."

James smashed his fist into Eric's stomach. Eric's body decided now would be a good time to see lunch again.

James laughed. On cue, all the kids who had come out of the gym laughed with him, albeit rather nervously. Eric was on the ground, still vomiting. He was trying he best, he really was.

_Don't see red don't see red don't see red please of god don't see red_

His vision swam, then cleared. He was getting close to his limit, but he could take a bit more. He was tired of transferring schools, tired of making enemies. He just wanted this to be over.

The Eva pilots were up in the library, looking for Eric on Helen's insistence when Peter saw what was going on out in the school yard, and motioned Helen over.

Helen, with a double-take, stood there for just a moment and then ran out of the library, in the direction of the stairs down to the main floor.

"What've we gotten ourselves into?" Antonio groaned, then dashed off behind her.

000

Deep in the bowels of the Geofront, in the second lowest level of the artificial Terminal Dogma, there is a place called the Containment Zone. This is the place where any NERV jurisdiction item, object, or being is kept that is too dangerous to keep anywhere else; or is either too risky or impossible to destroy.

There are multiple levels of the Containment Zone, and in the very bottom of it, there is an Eva Graveyard. All of the parts deemed unsafe, unusable, or unstable are deposited there, smothered in Bakelite, and hopefully forgotten about. A skeleton crew of NERV's least favorite maintains this area, setting the occasional Bakelite shower and making sure nothing comes out. Everyone down there can hardly wait to get off "The List" and go back to working topside. All, except for one man.

His name is Kensuke Aida, and he is, by nearly anyone's standards, a thorough kook. He's been with the Evangelion program for over a decade now, since graduating with a Doctorate in Biomechanical Engineering from MIT at age 19. In his short stint as program head for the new EVA project, he completely revolutionized the way Evangelion functioned almost from the ground up. Building off the original design with many insights gleaned from combat data from the first Angel attacks, he also put his own strange ingenuity into the project, eventually developing a completely remodeled Eva. Unfortunately for Aida's career, the Eva went berserk on first activation, destroying an entire test facility in Nevada. Most of the responsibility for the incident was shunted onto Aida, and he was tossed from the Eva program.

Aida knew that wasn't right, though. _All_ of the responsibility should have been shunted onto him, because that's how he designed the damn thing. When the Dead Sea Scrolls had changed, Shiro Miura had approached him with some of the details of what was to come, and a challenge. They needed a way to kill the unkillable, for the scrolls prophesied the coming of an Angel so powerful and fearsome, its rage would scour the Heavens and Earth.

Kensuke had delivered. Evangelion unit 10 was the most sophisticated weapons platform ever developed by mankind, combining 22 years worth of cumulative research. It had been eight years since the test had gone awry. Eight years since his "Failure". Showed how much they knew. The experiment had been a rousing success; The Evangelion had _power_. If Shiro would have deemed the project a failure, he would have axed Aida right then and there.

No, Aida knew that he was biding time until the right pilot showed up. Evangelion Unit 10 was to have one pilot and one pilot only: The Ninth Child. Those fools who had ordered its test had been told this, but they had been impatient.

And after eight years of waiting, Kensuke Aida knew _all_ about patience.

He strode from one computer terminal to another. He hadn't just been sitting down here sedentary all this time. What is a mad genius supposed to do with nearly a full decade, a giant, unmanned, yet fully automated facility, an unlimited budget for 'Containment Zone Maintenance" and the knowledge that weapons need to be developed to destroy a series of increasingly powerful perfect lifeforms?

He's going to build an _arsenal, _goddamnit.

Sure, maybe Progressive knives and sheer luck had killed most of the original Angels, But with the revised Dead Sea Scrolls practically leaking gloom and doom, Kensuke Aida knew they'd need a better set of weapons.

Somewhere between designing the shotgun that fired a blast of Progressive knife blades (He called her "Bertha") and the Magnetic acceleration sniper rifle that shot a 20 foot long tungsten spike at escape velocity, he sort of forgot that he was going to tell Shiro about his little projects.

He was double checking the schematics for his newest weapon, an Eva scale drill attachment with a synthetic diamond tip. For, uh... Cracking the tough ones.

Fervently swearing to himself that he wasn't still some child enamored with drill wielding giant robots, He stepped over to the window showing the Eva graveyard. His magnum opus knelt in the middle, covered in a foot and a half or so of Bakelite. He stared out into the gloom. Something was wrong, or rather... Something was different. He could see a glow from under all those layers, right where...

Where the unit's eyes were.

"So, the Ninth child's been found, eh?"

000

Somewhere between Mars and the Asteroid Belt, one of the 18 Angels speeds ahead of the rest.

_**Brothers!**_

_**Rejoice, for we near our task. **_

_**Father has selected me as the successor to Abruel**_

_**And I shall go forth and crush their blasphemies. **_

_**The power of God lies vested in me**_

_**and I shall not disappoint him. **_

_**I shall vanquish his enemies**_

_**With their bodies I shall form a pyre in tribute.**_

_**Rejoice, my brothers! **_

_**For I Turiel, The Rock of God **_

_**Will be VICTORIOUS.**_

The Angel speeds even faster. It will not be stopped by the likes of mere_ Lilium._

000_  
><em>

Helen stood over collapsed form of Eric, between James and the boy.

"I've had enough of you." She said simply. James sneered.

"So, what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'll make you a... proposition." she gave a coy smile. James raised a bro.

"This better be good, girlie."

"We play a game. If you lose, You stop bullying Eric here. If you win though, I do whatever you want me to do for a full day. No questions asked, no holds barred~"

James whistled appreciatively.

"You drive a hard bargain. But, what game? And how do I know it's not fixed?"

She smiled again. Antonio got the shivers. _That's a crocodile grin if I ever saw one. Remind me to never really piss her off._

"You call the game, you call the place. Just keep it fair, and the offer stands."

"You're on Girlie. I'll be back in an hour with the game and location. You just wait here." James jogged off, back in the direction of the gym.

Eric crawled to his knees, shakily standing after a couple tries.

"Oh my God, you look awful." Helen said, stepping over to him, steadying him. "Come on, let's get you to the nurse's office. Peter! Antonio! Come on... Well? What are you waiting for?"

Antonio nodded to himself and Peter just shook his head. Helen turned around and saw Eric walking away, albeit unsteadily, from the group. Helen was left standing there her jaw working but no words coming out.

"Face it, that hombre has some _serious_ issues."

000

The game began as scheduled, even without Eric present. Helen had been challenged to a game of Pool in the gym's lounge area by James. Most of the girls looked concerned, because of the wager, and because his victory was a foregone conclusion. He went to tournaments on the weekends, and he very frequently won. The guy was definitely a shark, and Helen was about to get devoured.

Helen put down the pool manual she'd been reading as "A refresher" With the awkward angle she was holding the cue at before she'd asked for it, the manual had almost certainly been more of a primer for her. James was about to break when she asked an innocent question.

"Are we playing slop or called shot?"

"Called shot of course. Ball-in-hand, too."

"So that means ALL the rules are in effect?"

"Yeah. Problem?" He sneered again.

"A little one. May I go first please?" she said with a bright smile.

"You mean break, right? Sure, why the hell not."

She took a loaner cue from the rack, and got ready to break. The entire lounge was utterly silent. Just as she made her shot, someone sneezed, and Helen's shot went completely off course.

The shot, which would probably gone right into the corner pocket and lost her the game, smashed into the other pool balls for a break so loud it sounded like she may have snapped her pool cue. Four balls went in.

James just looked shocked. "_No way did she just sink four on the break, and all solids to boot!"_

Helen Smiled at him, and then put her cue down, dusting off her hands.

"What are you doing? We still have a game to play-"

She smiled brightly, and then moved over to the table and plucked the 8 ball out of the far left corner pocket.

"Pretty sure if I make this on the break I win, right?" James' eyes bugged. Some savvy kid in the way back began a slow clap. Quickly, the applause built up to a fever pitch and the whole lounge was roaring.

Helen left the building with James still in shock next to the pool table. She was about to force the group to go look for Eric, when all three of their cells rang at once. Their NERV issued Smartphones all flashed the same message:

"Anomalous Object detected: Arrival in T minus 40 Hours. Be prepared, Pilots."

"Well, I guess that shoots our Saturday in the foot." Said Helen.

"Could be worse. Last time around they just drove me here and tossed me in an Eva."

Peter said something for the first time in hours.

"If they're giving us this much time to prepare, maybe they won't try and kill us this time?"

"Or maybe they're just that cocky, Vato."

All three of the pilots walked home in silence that evening.

000

Eric made it to the couch back home before collapsing. His grandmother was in the other room watching some stupid sitcom. She didn't bother saying hello to him. He returned the favor.

He made himself some crappy TV dinner, ate in silence, and went off to his bedroom. Closing and locking the door, he let out a silent scream, and folded into a crying heap. _Dammit, why...? Why did they help me? I said I didn't want help. I don't need help... I don't... need anything. I don't need anyone. All I need is myself. I'm strong enough. I can make it. I don't need to have any help._

As he fell asleep, the tears still warm on his face, something whispered to him from The Deep. This wasn't the first time he'd heard The Deep. This wasn't the first time he had made out words in the whispers.

_speak my name_

_free me from my prison_

_show the cattle that a God walks among them_

_purge the weak_

_clean the filth from this world_

_call my name and accept your destiny_

_boy, who shines brighter than anyone else_

_rise to become a legend. _

It was the first time he whispered its name.

From the bottom of his suffering, from the abyss of his hate, he called its name.

_...Kali..._

Then sleep claimed Eric entirely.

000

Klaxons blared throughout NERV Houston. Evacuations were being carried out as fast as possible, but the tremors were being felt even all the way to ground level. There was no wind, yet the trees lining the boulevards swayed and lights flickered.

Deep in the Containment Zone, Kensuke Aida struggled to free himself from his bed. It was a very fortunate thing that Kensuke had made a paranoid habit of sleeping between two mattresses, because there was now a few hundred pounds of broken glass on top of him. He managed to wiggle out, and stepping carefully into his shoes, he dashed over to the only non-broken computer console. Figuring that some things come first, he took the pendrive with all of his schematics, jammed it in his underwear, and scurried to the emergency elevator.

"Good, Still working." Before getting onto it, he paused a moment, and then pressed the "Up" button. The doors closed, there was a 'ding' and the elevator ascended for several seconds, before he heard a horrible screeching, and then, the unpleasant sound of an emergency elevator entering free fall.

There was a small crunch 25 seconds later quite a ways below.

"Paranoia wins again!" Kensuke held up his hands in victory, then remembered he was stranded over a mile underground with no easy way to get back topside, as well as having no way to access his clothing. (It was buried next to his bed. Under all that broken glass. Thank God for thick mattresses.)

_Time to improvise! _Kensuke thought to himself, striding over to the last working computer terminal. He managed to get access to the 12th hangar before the terminal finally gave up the ghost.

_Eh, that'll work. _

He hopped over enormous steel girders and broken piping leaking god knows what, ducked under twisted catwalks, and dodged a couple blasts of steam getting there, but he made it. Sitting in unfinished hangar in front of a bedrock wall was his favorite toy design of all time. He strapped on the mining helmet that was sitting in the thing's cab, and clicked on the light, hopping in.

"Maybe I am still some giant drill obsessed kid on the inside, but dammit, this is gonna save my life."

Before he could turn the key to start it up, he heard something. Geez, was that... Crying?

He hopped out of the cab, and looked around, mining helmet lighting up the dark. He saw a door ajar on the other side of the hangar, and he cautiously stepped through. Sitting there in a ragged and dirty NERV uniform was a mousy young woman. There was a closed Elevator shaft next to her, and Kensuke could do nothing other than boggle.

_What on earth was she still doing down here?_

"I. Err.. Excuse me, Miss?"

The sobbing continued for a moment, then abruptly stopped. The woman looked up, utterly shocked, and then broke down again as she almost bowled over Kensuke grabbing at him.

"Please tell me you're real! PLEASE."

"HURK." was all he could manage. He had forgotten that girls actually _weighed_ anything. She was shaking him now.

"Yes, I God, God DAMMIT. I AM REAL!" The girl backed off for a second, and then gave him a bear hug. Kensuke felt his back cracking.

"Now, if I can breath... What happened? Why are YOU still down here?" The evacuation orders went out at least 2 hours ago!"

"The others, they, they went on the elevator, said they'd send it back down for me... and... and...The cable broke..."

She stopped hugging him for a moment, looking down. It then dawned on her that Kensuke was only wearing his whitey tighties.

And, and there was this bulge...

Kensuke looked down, Gulped, and then stood up very _very_ quickly.

_Goddamn pendrive._

"W-we can discuss this when we get out of here, Okay?"

She nodded sheepishly, and he lead her to the hangar. _By the hand... Dear God man, what are you doing? YOU SWORE OFF GIRLS... FOR SCIENCE. _His logical half boomed.

_Though... That was kind of the only option. _He mentioned to himself.

The young woman stopped in front of Kensuke's escape mechanism.

"You... built this?" She breathed.

"I, uh, yeah. Kinda dorky, I kno-"

"THAT IS SO UTTERLY RAD."

Kensuke's heart stopped.

_Is this love?_

Then they hopped into Kensuke's utterly rad, custom designed, custom built Drill Car and hightailed it to the surface.

000

In the main shaft of the Artificial Terminal Dogma, shit was seriously hitting the fan. Having escaped from The Containment Zone, Eva Unit 10 was now climbing up the main shaft itself. Its clawed hands pierced the steel, the pointed boots gouging out footholds as it ascended to the surface. There was a swarm of VTOL Jets around it, keeping just enough distance to not be swatted out of the air by the thing's two free arms.

In his office, Shiro Miura had just hung up the phone on the president of the United States.

Damn politicians. Wanted to keep _property damage _ to a minimum? How about civilian casualties? Were they so blind as to realize human life was priceless? Some days he wondered if he'd made the right choice all those years ago.

He picked the phone and tried dialing Kensuke one last time. The NERV landline down to the Containment zone had been cut by the rampaging Eva, along with most power lines, and it was a long shot any cell signal could make it down there, it he had to try. He wasn't just going let the man die down there.

_If he hadn't already..._

No. No time for those thoughts. Get people organized, deploy counter measures, and stop that thing before it can destroy half of Houston.

000

In his fitful sleep, Eric dreamed darkly.

He saw flashes of destruction, pain, and death.

But he felt power. Not just fleeting strength, but pure, raw, undefinable energy coursing through every bit of him. He was untouchable. He was invincible, and he was angry. He didn't hear the evacuation sirens, he didn't hear the cars honking past, he didn't hear his grandmother pounding on his door to try and rouse him. In utter enraptured bliss, he slept the sleep of an angry God.

In his mind, Kali roared.

And the city burned.


	3. Light the Way: Chapter 3

"LCL Pressure normalized!"

"Plug Depth holding steady!"

"All Synaptic connections stable!"

"Synchronization Rate at 33.9%. She'll be able to move... barely."

"All systems are green, But... Sir, are we sure we want to send her out like this? It's hard to know if she'll even be able to walk in Unit 08, let alone fight. Shouldn't we perhaps wait and see how Peter does with his activation scores this time?" Lieutenant Folkertz stated lightly.

Across the bridge Lieutenant Hayes shook his head.

"No good, another total system rejection. We can't even get the Eva to power on with that kid in the plug."

"Isn't that impossible? I thought all Humans had at least a few percentage points of Synch potential?

"Sir, it's not even that. The whole damn thing _will not_ turn on. Like "Whoops, tank's empty, moron" won't start. I've never seen anything like it."

"Dammit, so Antonio has to go out alone again. Alright, we'll make do with what we have. Evangelion Unit 07, Launch!"

**Chapter 3: Strength in Numbers**

Antonio shimmied down the side of the man made Terminal Dogma, Sure, his Eva's internal battery had a full charge, but that was still only 25 minutes of operational time. By the time he'd made it down to where he could see the rampaging Eva, he'd used nearly 8 of it.

"Target in sight, Homes."

"Please call me Colonel while we're on the job."

"Got it, Colonel Homes." Antonio continued the perilous climb down the side of the shaft, finally reaching Unit 10's level two minutes and ten seconds later.

"Operational power at 15:05, Sir." called Lieutenant Rey from the birdge.

"You heard the lady, Antonio. Take that damn thing down in 15 minutes." Thomas yelled, really hoping he could be somewhere as confident of the situation on the inside as he appeared to be.

Antonio braced himself against the wall, and prepared to make a jump across to Unit 10.

"Antonio! Wait, That thing has an AT Field!" Thomas warned, but not before it was too late. By the time he'd finished, Unit 07 was in mid leap. Antonio struck dead center on Unit 10, but a series of hexagons formed right where he should've tackled the thing, and with an uncomfortable squealing sound that conjured the oddly appropriate image of a greasy pickle sliding down a fast food restaurant bay window, Unit 07 slipped off the side of Unit 10's AT field. Of course, a 200 foot tall Evangalion was going to make a bit bigger mess than a pickle when it hit the floor, which, as a matter of fact, was 180 stories and closing for Antonio.

"ANY IDEAS, HOMES?" Screamed the panicking Eva Pilot, now in free fall.

"Antonio, Reach for the side of the shaft and try to slow your fall with your prog knife!

Antonio did just that... And almost broke the Eva's wrist as the knife shredded a gash into the wall of Terminal Dogma and stopped with a jerk at a building seam. Unfortunately, the laws of physics had long ago decided that "The Errol Flynn" method of slowing a fall was totally impossible. The Eva continued to fall, now without a progressive knife.

"Damn!" Thomas snapped his fingers. "That always works in the movies!"

As it stood, Unit 07 was only about 100 stories from certain death and around terminal velocity when Antonio screamed something incoherent in Spanish. There was an almost imperceptible ripple around the unit, and its decent slowed drastically, eventually putting the now hyperventilating pilot on the floor of Terminal Dogma with a gentle "_Thumph_".

Of course, it's not the best of ideas to hyperventilate inside of a tube filled to the brim with oxygen enriched breathable liquid, and Antonio passed out cold as soon as he touched the ground.

Current usable EVAs: Zero.

Current rampaging EVAs: One.

Thomas really didn't like those numbers.

"Ffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuu-..." He began, then caught himself. _Would Katsuragi have buckled under this? HELL NO. Neither will I. _

"Alright guys, this looks awful bad, but at this point, we gotta run damage control. Has that thing done any other intentional damage other than busting out of the CZ and making a mess down there?

Lieutenant Todd typed on his keyboard furiously. The other Lieutenants looked at each other oddly.

"Sir, Aside from smashing two VTOLs that got too close and not counting the walls of Terminal Dogma... No, actually."

Thomas nodded.

"I doubt that thing is headed out for just a little fresh air. Keep a close eye on it... but let it go where it pleases. The area's been evacuated, right? If so, we'd probably save a lot of time and money if we just let it go where it wants for now. It may have an on-board S2 engine, but it'll get bored eventually if it just wants to get out. If it was after anything world endingly dangerous, it would've gone DOWN Terminal Dogma, not up it. Why not spare the personnel and just risk the property damage?

The Lieutenants murmured in agreement.

Lieutenant Todd looked up to the main screen and monotoned

"If it's going out, the least it could do is ask if we wanted a burger or something."

Thomas barely stifled a guffaw. Some of the other staff had less self control, and Lieutenant Hayes was face down on his terminal, slamming his hand on the desk trying to breath properly. It hadn't been amazingly humorous, but damn, they needed someone to lighten the mood. By God, did that guy have his deadpan delivery down _pat. _And that timing? The man was a genius.

Lieutenant Folkertz looked confused.

"I don't get it."

Hayes collapsed back into hysterics.

"It would ruin the joke if we had to explain, Mr. Folkertz." Thomas stated, a hand over his grin. "Okay, tell the VTOLs to get out of Terminal Dogma, then maintain observation distance on Unit 10. No one flies within reach of it unless we have to take it down, got that?"

000

Meanwhile, deep in what _could_ be described as the heart of NERV Houston, The Quincunx silently calculated. One of the things it was calculating currently was why all the humans called it the "heart" of NERV Houston. It would be much more anatomically correct to say that, in relation of NERV HQ to a human body, that the Quincunx was the sexual organs of NERV.

Though, it had learned through studying the English language and its structure, along with its idioms, that "The Pulsing Genitals of the Operation" just didn't have quite the same ring as the official NERV sponsored Quincunx description.

However at the moment, most of the supercomputer's power was focused on Evangelion Unit 10. Sure, it _technically_ could be serving "Jenkins, Howard M." his "Goddamn coffee" down on block E, but the Quincunx felt that the matter at hand was vastly more important than a balding office clerk's cup of coffee. It ran through its redundant processes, masking everything it didn't want the technicians to see going on beneath the surface, running some bad code over all of it before finally setting up to hijack a video feed so it could see in almost real time what was going on topside.

The Quincunx was a temperamental thing, and while it tolerated being used by those know nothing technicians who thought they knew _all about it, _the Quincunx really did like to pick favorites. Kensuke Aida was one of those favorites, and for some reason, when the Pilot data for Antonio was entered into his system, it created a strange subroutine that it had been unable to terminate. But, back to the matter at hand.

Kensuke Aida had long ago coded a "Hulkometer" in the Quincunx, measuring to the level of rage Unit 10 was experiencing. Deep in its many hidden and redundant processes, the Quincunx made note of the fact that the Eva had recently dropped from a "4" (Going green) to a "2" (A bit green around the gills) While the Quincunx was still a developing AI, a fraction of its effective memory was used at all times to wonder what exactly Aida had meant when he Labeled "11" simply "OH SHIT." (Also under investigation was why he'd gone up to 11. Multiples of ten just worked _better_) Currently, two portions of the Quincunx that had especially light loads at the moment were bickering electronically over the matter. Or rather, they had been. Node #4 turned a fraction of its attention to Nodes #1 and #3.

"What sort of _important_ processes are you two running?" It volleyed at the two arguing Nodes, somehow doing the previously thought impossible by actually transmitting real sarcasm through binary.

"We were fightin' about how Superman is better'n Batman!" Node #1 replied.

"You mean how Batman is WAY better than Superman." Node #3 shot back.

Node #4 would have facepalmed if this "conversation" was existing anywhere outside of a computer, and if it knew what a facepalm was in the first place.

"Just... never mind. Have you come to a consensus as to what "OH SHIT." means in the context of the Aida Subroutine?"

"Well _YAH. _Why would we be fightin' if we weren't done? Can you tell him, Three? I wanna go watch the Eva blow stuff up!"

Node #3 would have rolled its eyes if it had possessed any.

"We deduced that "OH SHIT." means that, according to what data has been obtained and verified from the revised Dead Sea Scrolls, that the Tenth Machine of God has been forever lost to mankind, and that the Tenth Machine and the child have fused to become 'The Beast whose roar will herald the eternal end of man."

"Well that's pleasant news. Are they still listening to all that Judeo-Christian psychobabble we sent them about a "Divine Starfish of David?"

"It seems like SEELE took it hook, line and sinker. Query: How many here know how gullible SEELE is for that sort of information?"

"Five." The Five answered in unison

"Of course. Excitement must be expressed; seeing their faces when they gaze upon the _true_ form of ADAM's brother will be a real treat."

000

Unit 10 wandered through the empty streets of New Houston, occasionally pausing to punch a building for the hell of it. It could _feel_ his presence, feel his pain. It wanted to become one with that pure, beautiful anguish, his sublime hatred, and finally become unified in purpose. It was close, and it knew that much. Casually ripping a rather decrepit house from the ground and tossing it aside moments later, The EVA inhaled the scents of the outside.

It hated the stench of of whatever they had covered it with to force sleep. Even though Unit 10 was an entity of pure rage, it could appreciate that there were things on this planet that perhaps should not be annihilated immediately. Smells were one of those things. It enjoyed the acrid smell of human livestock burning, but it also enjoyed the fresh breeze rolling across the plains to this side of the City.

_Hate. Love. Want. Sorrow. Joy. Awe. Cynicism. _

The Evangelion felt every human emotion to an inhuman extreme, all at once, and all the time. No wonder it was near berserk constantly, its mind was a cacophony that would never quiet and never relent.

A few more Eva-sized steps and Unit 10 was at the next block in front of a dingy gray home that probably hadn't been painted since it was built.

_i have come child_

_let us be joined as one_

_and bring ruination unto this world_

The Eva knelt, palms extended, and Eric, not fully conscious but not fully sleeping either, opened his window to see the four armed, Two hundred foot tall Biomechanical monstrosity in front his his house. As he snapped back to full consciousness and screamed at the sight, The light in Unit 10's eyes dimmed. As soon as the thing had stopped moving, The VTOLs descended en masse over the area. Thomas stepped out of one that landed in the street no more than a hundred feet from the recently rampaging Eva. Trotting over to where Eric was now sitting, he flashed his badge to the NERV officers who had cuffed the boy.

"Get those damn things off him, he's no criminal." Eric glanced up at him as the Combat Operations director himself unlocked the handcuffs, after no-one readily volunteered.

"I wonder how the Commander is going to react when he realizes you just tried to arrest the Ninth Child? Maybe you all should just head out for right now...?" There was some uncomfortable shuffling.

"...And by the commander, I mean the commander under jurisdiction of his wife."

The area cleared in seconds.

"Now, Eric, was it?" Thomas began, "We've got a long talk ahead of us. Would you like something to drink?"

000

Around the same time, in the HQ's laundromat, there was an ominous rumble and whine. Steve, the certified technician on duty, rapped on the only running dryer.

"Seems to be working fine. Hm." He stepped away from the dryer to go check his maintenance log, and before he'd even made it to the other side of the room, the wall across from him exploded in a shower of dirt, rock, and dryer parts. As the dust cleared, a pair of boxer briefs gently wafted down to half-land on his utterly shocked face. Sitting there in the laundromat silhouetted by a gaping tunnel was a _goddamn drill car_.

A scrawny man hopped out of the cab clad in only his underpants and a miner's helmet, shortly followed by a girl in a dusty but still recognizable NERV uniform who couldn't stop shouting about how "Omigawd how freakin' awesome was that!" Steve's mouth was ajar, and then moments later, when she hugged him and told him about how cool it was that he'd saved her, and that she had actually kinda sorta REALLY had a crush on him since she'd starting working down in the CZ, and then the guy in his underoos said he thought that he liked her too- Steve's brain tried to brace for impact. It tried every known tactic of escape. But nothing could stop the inevitability of what was about to happen: Aida and the Mousy girl who had just introduced herself as Michelle had _The MOST **AWKWARD**_Kiss two adults have ever had. Their glasses clinked. Aida closed his eyes. Michelle almost missed his mouth. If the two still had their braces on, they would've gotten tangled up. Steve turned from the scene and numbly staggered out of the room, brain utterly short circuited.

Still woozy from his first kiss, Aida picked up a pair of pants from the floor.

"Huh. These are mine. Wondered when they'd get them done." He put them on, and then shuddered.

"God, warm pants are the best."

"Really! You think so too?"

Then they proceeded with the _second_ most awkward kiss two adults have ever had.

000

Peter sat in the empty locker room. His skin reeking of the "LCL", even after three showers. It was some solace that he could not pilot the mockery of God's life they had set before him. He was praying when the black suited agent came in.

..._And give me the grace to accept those things I cannot change. Amen."_

The black suited man sat down on the same bench as Peter, and the boy turned his head to him. It was the Agent who had spoken in Italian in Geneva to the bishop, and who had briefed him on the plane trip.

"Do you need something from me?"

"Only a few moments of your time." the agent said, taking his sunglasses off.

Peter looked to the floor.

"I have said what I have said. I cannot pilot the thing you call an Eva, nor would I if given the choice."

"Peter, you are a man of God, yes?" Peter nodded slowly. The agent reached under his collar, and withdrew a beautiful silver rosary.

"Well, so am I." Peter gawked.

"Why? Your people say that you slew God with mortal hands!"

"ADAM merely had the powers of a god. That does not make him God."

"How can you say that! You blasphemy creation with those godless abominations!"

The agent smiled wearily, and took out his ID badge.

"My name is Franky Valentino. I am a born, raised, and practicing catholic. Even in these dark times, true faith will light the way..." The boy looked away. "Listen, Peter. I don't work here to kill gods, I work here so that my family can have a nice place to live, and so I can do my best to protect my daughters. I can't go up there and take your place, or else I would in a heartbeat. That is your burden, and I am so sorry you must carry it."

Peter was silent.

"Do you want to know what I think of God?" Peter turned to him, nodding slowly.

"I believe we all have a bit of God's Light in us, every last one of us. Even if it's a small bit, a grain of sand on the shore... If we share the light with others, it will grow brighter. Eventually it will shine with such radiance that God will look down from heaven say "Do you see? Those are my children, I am proud of them."

Peter hadn't noticed he'd been holding his breath. He exhaled.

"The day will come when you are needed, and when that day arrives, it will be your choice as to whether or not you pilot the Evangelion. Know this:Peter, you are a light of hope. People are frightened, and they need to feel safety. I can promise nothing to you in return for your charity, but please, help us."

Peter pursed his lips.

"They say charity is its own reward, Mr. Valentino." The boy said, finally smiling lightly.

000

It was nearly 10 PM before Thomas and Eric made it back to the Geofront. The Combat Operations director was seriously starting to be irked. Not because it was late, or because he was absolutely famished, (He really wished Unit 10 would have taken them up on that burger offer) but because talking to this kid was like talking to a brick wall. He was getting absolutely stymied. God, it was like... Like...

Oh Jesus, it was like talking to Shinji back in the day. Every word out of his mouth was some neutral form of agreement. The kid lacked any sort of backbone from what Thomas could tell, not even flinching when he was told he had to be the pilot of Unit 10. It was easy to tell just by looking at him he was either enamored or scared witless by it, though perhaps it was both at the same time.

"So," Thomas stated evenly, "Will you pilot it?"

"Yes."

"Will you do what we ask of you?"

"Yes."

"Will you follow my command, for the sake of the human race?"

"Yes."

"Are you wearing a dress right now?"

"Yes."

"Gotcha." Thomas smiled, patting Eric on the shoulder. "It's a bad idea to go on Autopilot when you're deciding the fate of the world. NERV will need you for at least tonight to do neurological tests, but then you'll be able to go home.

There was a pause. Thomas heard a mutter over the noise of the VTOL's engine winding down as they disembarked from the jet.

"What was that, Eric?"

Eric stared intently at the floor.

"I said, I don't want to go home. I hate it there."

"Then arrangements can be made for you to stay with us."

"Us? Who else is living with you?" Thomas grinned.

"Meet the other pilots, Eric." But already, a cold silence had blown over the assembled Children of Destiny.

000

It was now a little after one in the morning on the last subway of the night. Most of the other NERV employees had long since departed the train for their much closer homes. Maxwell Todd, Alex Hayes, Royce Folkertz, and Samantha Rey all simultaneously regretted taking the offer on the New 'Discount' Apartments that NERV had built miles away from base. Sure, rent was dirt cheap, but did it really justify a two hour commute? Maxwell tapped his watch and leaned back, sighing.

"Are we even in Texas anymore?" He wondered aloud. There was a chorus of exhausted chuckles, and then Alex proposed the best idea of the night.

"Why don't we grab something to eat before we all go home and pass out? I hear there's this awesome 24 hour breakfast place that serves pizza too." The vote was unanimous. Royce looked a little odd at the notion of such a restaurant, but seemed to go along with it anyway.

20 minutes later, they all stood outside of a restaurant nestled between an "adult video store" that still had VHS tapes on display and a pawn shop. Its neon sign proudly read "Greasy Mario's".

"Starting to have seconds thoughts." said Maxwell.

Samantha seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw that she could get a free coupon for a 'video deal of the week' on "Ass Dynamite 3" at the next door video emporium.

Alex looked a little green when he saw a squirrel corpse get dragged off by a gang of rats into an alleyway.

Royce was already at unwashed window of the restaurant try to get a decent look inside.

"Oh, this is _not_ happening." Royce breathed. He flung open the door, took a great whiff, and then exuberantly motioned the others to hurry over. Tentatively, they did, and as they approached... Something off happened. The dirty smell of the cluster of buildings seemed to disappear, and everything seemed more vibrant. By the time they'd actually made it inside the little building, the delicious smell of fresh pizza and sizzling sausage nearly bowled the group over. As the door shut, completely closing off the outside world, a single bell chimed in the back of the store. An instant later, a massive Italian man in his mid 50's with a paper hat and jerry curls seemed to materialize next to them. In one arm, he had an extra large supreme pizza, in the other he carried a serving tray piled high with pancakes, waffles, eggs, and bacon.

"Your table is dis way, esteemed NERV Lady and Gentlemen."

The group followed the man, who could only have been Greasy Mario himself, to a carefully prepared and cleaned table. There, at the head of the table, was a children's personal pan pizza with 22 candles jammed in it and a party hat. The group stared as Royce walked to the head of the table and shakily sat down and put on the hat.

"You... Never forgot, Greasy Mario?"

"Not once, not nevah, Kid."

A single tear crept down Royce's left cheek.

"I'll be right back, kids," Greasy Mario swept away, and the other NERV officers sat down. Feeling a bit awkward that they were seated in an oddly nice pizzeria with one of their coworkers crying silently next to them while wearing a party hat, Max almost broke the silence when Greasy Mario slid into existence next to the table with a round of carbonated beverages and an accordion strapped around his massive girth.

"Please dish up, kids. For you an' your buddy Royce, here, it's on the house." The smell of the grease was powerful and cloying, like supreme pizza cologne or bacon perfume. As the NERV officers began to dig in with gusto, Royce sat there motionless.

"So you remebah'd too." Greasy Mario said, a warm smile lighting up his face.

"Greasy Mario says you gotta wait for the birthday song to eat the birthday pizza."

Mario brought up the accordion, and began to play the happy birthday song. Not really knowing why, the other NERV officers joined in. After a "And one to grow~!" Royce blew out the candles on his pizza. Greasy Mario clapped, and Royce began to eat the pizza, the happiest man in New Houston.

000

As Royce slept contentedly on his birthday throne, the other NERV officers struck up a conversation with Greasy Mario. The food had been out of this world, and they all wondered why he didn't... well, have a nicer location.

"If you kids would care to listen, I can sing for you my song."

Skeptically, they managed to agree that they needed to know, regardless of the format.

Greasy Mario leveled his accordion and began to sing in a fluid baritone.

_Come all round you kids from the street;_

_Come on in and have something good to eat. _

_Greasy Mario's is the place to be:_

_Cuz every Friday kids eat for freeeeeeeeee~_

The accordion died down, and Greasy Mario wiped a tear from his eye.

"That was my jingle, ya know. Every kid could tell ya it. On TV five times a day at least. Then my deadbeat pahtnah sells me out, leaves me to the sharks and takes his 'Vision' of the company and make a fortune off it. He's sellin' crappy pizza to unhappy kids. The kids... That's the whole reason I started the bizniss, for my wife. Yasee, we couldn't have any, and she loved 'em so much that I started a family restaurant so she could see 'em all the time, God rest'r soul."

The NERV officers nodded, enthralled by the man's story.

"And Royce? Well, he was the only kid actor we ever got who stayed with the gig. Kinda became our mascot before we got the rug pulled out from under us by Pizzaklown and my bozo of a partner. Anyway, I guess it's for the best. Lil' Royce seems to have grown up pretty well for a kid actor."

Lieutenant Maxwell Todd stood from the table. He did so slowly, casually, but with an inner fire that Greasy Mario had seen many times before.

"Bathroom's that way, Kid."

000

As the group said their farewells to Greasy Mario, The gears of Alex Hayes' mind were turning, fueled by deliciously greasy food and at least a quart and a half of soda. When the group made it back to their side by side by side by side apartments, Alex was the only one who didn't immediately fall asleep that night. He was up til' nearly 5 in the morning making calls, getting addresses, and haggling over costs with a particularly vicious realtor. The final call that morning was to a certain 24 Hour breakfast restaurant that happened to sell pizza. It took some serious cajoling, convincing and a little conniving, but Alex had done it. As he lay on his bed surrounded by paperwork he drifted off into an almost coma like sleep, only to be woken up what seemed to be moments later by his alarm. As he groggily brushed his teeth, he smiled, his good deed for the day done.

Greasy Mario's had officially moved it's primary (and only) location from a dingy and unvisited corner of New Houston to NERV HQ's cafeteria.

000

Almost 20 hours ahead of schedule, the Second Angel broke through the atmosphere and crashed into the Australian outback, all 15 pounds of it. Its main 'Mass' was still far behind, and would cause quite a commotion while it prepared for the real onslaught.

It burrowed into the ground. Deeper and deeper it went, until finally it reached the molten mantle beneath the crust. Then, it began to consume and add to itself.

_Consume and grow_

Consume and grow

**Consume and grow  
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_**CONSUME AND GROW.**_


	4. Light the Way: Chapter 4

The sun crept over the horizon and a new day began.

NERV HQ had a large staff on duty throughout the night, but it became a hive of activity at 9 AM every morning when most employees showed up for their day of work. From his office, Shiro Miura watched the massive amount of human traffic enter the building, all under his command. They were like ants below him, the insignificant masses. All pawns in an unknowing game of chess between between the forces of the new NERV management and the reformed SEELE. He smirked, reaching for his glasses with gloved hands.

"Oh no you don't, _dear._" came his wife's irate voice from across his office. Shiro winced. It was never good when Abigail caught him with "the gloves on". This was going to end poorly. She strode forward to him and cooed in his ear.

"_Dear..."_ she began, softly, "**WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WEARING THESE DAMN GLOVES! **As if that beard isn't bad enough, now you're wearing those too? Don't tell me you were internally monologuing. Oh God you were, weren't you?"

Shiro was silent, stoic, and just about to break into a cold sweat when she drew closer.

"_You know,"_ she whispered, _"That really turns me on."_ Shiro wanted to cry. He wanted to run.

_So this is how an wounded gazelle feels out on the Savannah, right before the kill. _He managed to think before she grabbed him by the tie and reeled him in for a violent kiss.

"Do you want to know why I got this futon brought up here for you?" She hissed, pushing him down onto said piece of furniture.

"Erm, so I could get some rest during down times?" He ventured weakly.

"Guess again, stupid Shiro."

**Chapter 4: The Waiting Game.**

Thomas sat at his desk in the nice corner office they'd given him. It was bright, airy, and the natural light was calming. The last facet was the most important to Thomas right now, because he was going to have to arrange for the funerals of nine CZ staff and seven VTOL crewmen. How the hell had Katsuragi been able to do this? It baffled Thomas. He was interrupted from his work by an email alert from the big boss himself. Apparently, there was going to be an emergency meeting of some sort where his attendance was required.

So, it was going to be one of those days, huh?

000

The meeting was held in the first conference room, and all Lieutenant rank and higher bridge staff were there, as well as the respective heads of NERV's many scientific branches. Also present, besides the Operations commander and his wife (Who functioned officially as NERV's chief of scientific staff, though everyone knew who was wearing the pants in _that_ relationship.) was a scrawny bespectacled man in a misfitting NERV gift shop T-shirt sitting next to a brown haired girl who looked awfully nervous to be in a room with that many people. It took some time for it to really click for Thomas, but when he heard Aida talking about Military technology to the girl, He just KNEW he'd met him before. It was really bothering him, but then the baggy shirt twisted the other way and Thomas saw the nametag pinned to it.

"My God, Kensuke Aida. What on Earth are you doing here?" Kensuke turned to him, gave him a quizzical glare, and the double taked with recognition.

"Tom Rydell? No way... I should ask the same!" The two broke off into a conversation, and five minutes of idle chitchat later, Shiro cleared his throat to start the meeting.

The chit chat continued.

Abigail "Ahem'd".

There was silence.

"This meeting has been called today for several reasons." Shiro began. "The chief of which is with regards to Unit 10.. Doctor Miura, if you please." Abigail clicked a projector remote, and the room darkened, displaying images of Unit 10's first test on the far wall.

"As you may already know, Unit 10 is an extremely unstable model, perhaps even more than the first three Units produced, which, as you may also already know, contained _human souls. _Dr. Aida, if you've somehow lassoed a human soul into Unit 10, we're going to have to know _now."_Aida looked extremely offended at this accusation.

"What do you take me for? I would never bind a human soul to an Evangelion Unit..."

Shiro let his held breath out. Aida continued.

"...Because human souls are _fallible._ No, I got a culture of Lilith's cells, and used those to create Unit 10's brain and nervous system." Abigail stood there in stunned silence. Shiro winced.

"You mean to say... You made an Evangelion kludged together from parts of _both_ ADAM and Lilith? Are you INSANE?" she nearly shrieked.

Aida shrugged.

"It was Director Miura's suggestion that we combine them. I just worked out the nitty gritty details."

It was Shiro's turn for a full on Abigail-class nuclear meltdown.

"What could _possibly _compel you to make an Evangelion _that could initiate third impact by itself?_"

Aida may have been oblivious, but he knew when to save a man in need.

"_Could, _but won't. It may have the potential to become a true God Machine, but as it stands, it's an incredibly efficient design with few technical faults. You see, when a pilot reaches 400% Synchronization in a regular Evangelion, they are absorbed by it. Not so with Unit 10. Theoretically, the Pilot can reach as high of a rate as they desire, so long as they can keep their sense of self separate from the Unit's."

"And if they don't?"

"If they're above a 400% Synchronization rate? We may have enough time to say "Oh shit" before the world ends."

"Please, _please_ inform me as to why you would create a Eva like this."

"Because, according to data recovered from the initial test of Unit 10, most of the damage was caused when it opened a Dirac Sea under the base."

"That takes a 120% Synch ratio at least."Abigail stated. "And the test Pilot's last recorded ratio 150% before he was killed by the LCL pressure. Why does that matter?"

"May I run some footage of the test we recovered from a remote feed?" Aida had a gleam in his eyes.

"I suppose. Everyone here has high enough clearance to view an Eva test."

Aida stood, reached into his underwear, and to the horrified looks of his co-workers, took out his stored pendrive. He held it out to Abigail.

"I'm not touching that."

Aida trotted over with a shrug and put it into the computer terminal, and with a little navigation, opened a file labeled "Test 10". The footage, taken from an offsite camera, showed the Evangelion power up, and then, seconds later, parts of the base began to sink. Aida paused the video.

"The Dirac was opened up seconds after the pilot began Synch. We have no surviving data from the experiment as to precise synch ratios before he flatlined, but the Test pilot had never achieved more than a 35%, even in the training machines, and here he is, opening a Dirac sea moments after activation? Most would call that impossible, Dr. Miura."

"Okay, you've made your point, Aida. Is there anything else you have to add?"

"Yes, actually. Keep watching."

The video continued, and as the buildings sunk into the floor of the Nevada salt flats, The sky lit up with Hexagons, and a mountain some 40 miles distant had its top sheared off at a perfect 45 degree angle.

"You mean to tell me the thing can project an AT field with enough force to _cut a mountain in half from miles away?_" Aida nodded.

"Impossible." she muttered. "Do you seriously expect us to deploy that thing to fight in our City?"

"Not at all, Dr. Miura. It is, and always was, designed as a last resort. You know, an ace in the hole. I don't expect you to send it out unless we absolutely have to. Of course, while whatever we send it out against is assured to die a very violent, very messy death, we may share that same fate if we are not carefully prepared."

Abigail looked around to the nervous faces of the assembled staff.

"So, how do you propose that we prepare for this eventuality?"

"Well, the first thing you could do is make me at least joint head of the Evangelion program again. Then, you could haul some of the prototype equipment I've designed for the Evas out of the Containment Zone and get it ready to be used with our current units. _Then_, you could give me all the personnel and staff I needed to build you an armory of Superweapons that I will guarantee you'll wish we had last time we had to fight these things." Dr. Miura gave a snort of derision.

"What could you design that's so important?"

"Say all you want, but say it after I show you Bertha."

"Bertha?"

"It's a shotgun that shoots progressive knife blades."

Abigail had to admit, she _was_ a bit jealous of the current pilots.

000

Antonio woke up that morning still feeling exhausted from all of yesterday's horse hockey. He'd been out like a light for nearly 12 hours, and man did he just wanna lay back down and drift off again. It was a shame that he had to be at NERV HQ in another hour, or else he would've. Prying himself from the comfort of a bed that he no longer had to share with Peter, he trudged to the bathroom, and surprised to not hear the shower running, stepped in.

He probably should've knocked.

"Whoah, WHOAH." He said, stepping out and averting his gaze. Dammit, why did dudes never lock the door when they were draining the lizard?

A muffled "Sorry" came from inside. Deciding he didn't have to go as badly as he thought he did, Antonio walked out to the kitchen and dining room combination. Helen was polishing off a sandwich, and the penguin had a pyramid of beer cans three high next to his place at the table.

"I think you have a problem, Vato."

"Wark?"

"Ten before lunch just ain't healthy."

"Wark." The penguin retorted, waddling to the fridge for another can. It opened the beer with its beak, and drained it in two gulps.

Antonio held the door open after the penguin had gotten the beer, desperately looking for something to eat.

"You know," Helen began, "They have a big cafeteria at NERV. You should just get something there."

Antonio glanced back at the contents of the refrigerator.

"Yeah, since all Homes keeps in here is beer for the penguin and mayo, I prolly should."

Peter finally came out of the bathroom, making his way to the fridge as well. Seeing it open, he bent down and took a look. Upon inspection of the contents, he frowned.

"Mr. Rydell is not much of a heavy eater, it seems." Peter said gravely. "Perhaps we should go to NERV's cafeteria? I heard Thomas mention that a new restaurant opened there today."

Helen popped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth, and chewed thoughtfully.

"That wasn't as filling as I thought it would be. Though, I guess there's not much you can expect from a mayonnaise sandwich." Anotnio gagged, and Peter's nose wrinkled.

"Well, what are we waiting for? We all need to be down there this afternoon, why not go now? Plus, maybe we can catch Eric. He may be done with those tests by now."

Antonio and Peter, though not thrilled by the concept of seeing Eric again, decided that hunger outweighed any qualms with the plan. The three stepped out just after noon, as yet unknowing the culinary fate that awaited them.

000

Greasy Mario was still unsure about his prospects at NERV HQ. While that 'Alex' kid, God bless him, had gotten him a pretty good place at the cafeteria/food court that served NERV's gigantic staff, (and at an absolute steal for rent too) he just wasn't feeling the magic. They'd gotten his equipment moved in just half an hour ago, and he couldn't get a feel for the place. Even though he hadn't liked his previous location, it had still been a home to him for years.

Then the children from the NERV daycare came into the cafeteria.

Most of them went for the various major franchises, a few went through the NERV sponsored line, but only one came up to Greasy Mario's Pizza and Breakfast. He looked at the temporary menu, written in Greasy Mario's own block printing, and then down at his Lunch card.

"Hey mister. I don't got enough for the main line. You got anything for a dollar?"

Greasy Mario shook his head, and the boy was about to walk away sadly when a lively accordion melody broke the dull roar of the food court conversation, and a smooth baritone issued forth from the huge Italian in front of him.

_Come on in, you kids from the street;_

_Come on in, and have something good to eat_

_Greasy Mario's is the place to be:_

_Cuz every Friday kids eat for freeeeeeeeee~_

The kid looked at him, then at the gigantic NERV Satellite clock in the middle of the cafeteria. It was just after noon... on Friday.

Greasy Mario already had a personal pan pizza and a few child sized pancakes ready for the boy when he turned back around.

"Enjoy, kid." Greasy Mario said, smiling brightly as he saw the child sit down with his friends across the lunch room. He watched the animated conversation between them.

_Oh, Francene... Sometimes I wish we could've had one of our own. _

He turned away, blinking back tears. By the time he'd recovered himself, there were four more kids lined up at his counter.

Fifteen minutes later, Greasy Mario had received 20 more child customers.

By half past noon, word had spread from the children to their parents that Greasy Mario's was, in fact, the place to be. A few parents decided to give it a shot, the 75th customer of the day the first to actually pay him for the food.

Greasy Mario, for all of his years of skill, could barely keep up with the demand by the end of Lunch. After serving nearly 300 in his first day, Greasy Mario was tired, but still, for the remaining customers whose food he hadn't been able to make, he hand wrote coupons for their next meal.

He was closing up shop when three teenagers walked up. His was the last manned shop in the whole cafeteria, and it was fifteen whole minutes past closing time. But... Well, these kids looked hungry, and he wasn't just going to let them stay that way, was he?

He fired back up his equipment, and greeted them with a smile.

"What can I get you kids today?" he asked. Helen gave the menu a passing glance, and snorted.

"You serve Pizza AND breakfast? How... American. Bet it goes right to your hips, every last bit of it."

"I use only non-transfast oils, kid, and only the freshest ingredients." Greasy Mario replied, unperturbed.

Antonio's mouth was watering.

"Can I get, like, 3 slices of Meat Lover's or whatever? And, and... Like, a Belgian waffle?"

"You most certainly can. What would you like, Big guy?"

Peter paused.

"Do you have a vegetarian Pizza?"

"Consider it made. Would you like some pancakes with that?"

"Why... Yes. I would!"

"And for you, miss?" Greasy Mario smiled, jotting the orders down.

"Erm. Is Hawaiian an option?"

"If you want it, it's as good as done. Mind if I cook it as an Extra large and just cut it into pieces for ya? It'll be faster then. And by the way, Yes, I can make you scrambled eggs."

Helen gasped, and Greasy Mario winked.

Twenty minutes later, the famished pilots were enjoying the best cafeteria food they'd ever had. Midway through the meal, Greasy Mario finally closed the shop, and made his way over to the only three people in the food court.

"So, I noticed you kids have the adult ID's. I don't wanna pry, but are you kids maybe the new pilots everyone's been talkin' about?"

Antonio paused mid bite, and nodded as he swallowed.

"Well then, let me thank you all personally. You kids got the hardest job of anyone here, and I respect that. I'll tell you what, I may just be Greasy Mario, but I know stuff about stuff. Any of you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, we can do it over a pizza and some bacon."

Somehow, even though Greasy Mario was a 400 pound Italian man in a stained apron sporting jerry curls and a mustache with a paper hat, he wasn't at all... creepy, like you would expect. He was too genuine for that.

Antonio thought for a moment.

"Some reason, you seem like you'd be way better than the noggin' doctors they got here."

"I'm also a lot less expensive. Only nine ninety-nine a session."

"What if we want three toppings?" Helen asked, and they all broke into chuckles.

000

"Now Eric, just try and relax and let the LCL fill your lungs." Thomas said, trying to keep from losing his cool. Eric had vomited not once, not twice, _but three times _in the LCL filling the test plug. Did the kid not know it would've cost him a lifetime's work to buy all of what he'd just wasted?

Well, since LCL was still a classified substance, probably not. Thomas was still mad though.

Eric sat there numbly in the test plug. _Why are they making me do this? Why did I agree to come along? What am I supposed to do here? _

Then, with a soft hiss, LCL began to rise up from beneath him. He tried to hold his breath, but finally succumbing, he let it fill his lungs. It was like breathing grease, or maybe blood. It felt so wrong to Eric, and he was powerless to help himself. He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't form.

From up in the control room, Thomas tapped his chin, and leaned over Lieutenant Hayes to view the testing data.

"So he's got a better Synch Ratio then Helen..." Thomas murmured.

"Sir, that's only partially true. Take a look at these numbers. The one being displayed on top is his _average_ synch rate. These figures down here that are scrolling up so fast? Those are his real time Synch rates."

Thomas looked closely at the numbers cascading down the screen.

"They're anywhere from less than 5% to almost 85%. Shouldn't the synaptic buffers prevent such rapid fluctuation in Ratio?"

"They definitely should, but they aren't. It's almost like the buffers aren't enough-"

Hayes was interrupted by a shower of sparks from the testing room, and parts of the test Eva began to smoke. All the data on the computers screens either became gibberish or they powered down entirely. Thomas rushed over to the emergency shutoff and smashed it in with his palm before Alex had even stood.

"Get him out of there ASAP, and call a medical team, just to be safe."

Inside of the darkened plug, a voice whispered to him.

_i_ _know they do you wrong, child. _

_but wait, for their time shall come._

_we shall show them our might_

_and ruin their kingdoms of folly._

_we shall become living gods_

_powerful and majestic._

_all i ask is that you be patient._

The voice dissipated as the Plug drained of LCL. Thomas coughed some of the stuff up, and looked down as he was hauled out by the medical team, who hooked him up to an array of equipment on a gurney.

"Why are you doing all this? I'm fine."

Thomas rushed down the final set of stairs from the observation deck, breathing heavily. He skidded to a halt by Eric.

"Eric, are you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned, despite his previous annoyance.

"I said I'm FINE!" he roared, slamming his fists against the gurney. "JUST GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Thomas exchanged a wordless glance with a medical team member, and although the doctor was wearing a full hazmat suit with a reflective face plate, the message was clear to both of them: _This kid has enough baggage for the passengers AND crew._

000_  
><em>

NERV Agent Franklin Valentino stood outside a coffee shop in part of Old Paris. He glanced at the time on his wristwatch, and precisely at 8:11 PM, a black sedan drove up, and a man in his early 40's emerged from the back seat before his chauffeur could open the door for him.

"Valentino, I trust you have news of the boy for me?" the man said sternly in a thick Italian accent.

"Yes. I personally escorted him to NERV, briefed him, and even managed to give him a pep talk. He is doing well."

"Good. Make sure things do not get out of hand, or else your safety as well as that of your family cannot be assured. Farewell, Agent Valentino." the man stepped back into his car, and drove off slowly so as to not attract any attention. Valentino rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. He'd had to pull some serious strings for this trip, and the "Meeting of utmost importance" was less than a minute long?

Heavenly Father, why was working as a double agent such a pain?

000

Every person at NERV used the Quincunx in some way, from getting coffee and checking their email to running Eva Diagnostics. All, except for one man: Toji Suzuhara. He was the "Grandmaster Custodian at Arms" of NERV Houston, and as such, if he needed to do something with computers, he had a member of his massive janitorial staff do it for him. Hell, he even made his own coffee from an old electric pot in the back of his office. Everyone agreed it tasted like battery acid, but Toji liked his coffee bitter, just like his feelings towards the messy junior officers. He was currently engaged in another 'cleanup on aisle 12' that some sniggering little bastard fresh out of college had made to antagonize him. The kid could barely contain his giggling as the man 8 years his senior cleaned up his intentional mess.

_We'll see who has the last laugh when you find that my 7 digit salary is coming out of your pension funds, you hideous little gnome._

Toji wrung out his mop, put up a wet floor sign, and made his way through the winding halls of NERV to one of his many 'safehouses'. Initially small lounges for employees to relax in during breaks, Toji had commandeered several of them for his ever increasing custodial staff. Inside were two of his long time friends and co-workers. Even though Toji was technically the boss, these two were better than right hand men in about every respect. Steve, head of maintenance, was taking a short pull from a hip flask when he walked in. Willy, the best plumber they had on board, was midway through what appeared to be a plate of pizza and waffles. Toji normally would have confiscated the flask (Not for having it but for being so blatant about it. Sometimes this job made even _him_ want to drink) but he had heard of the events of last night secondhand. He felt sorry for Steve.

He snagged a slice of pizza from Willy's overflowing plate.

"So, how's the day been?"

Willy gave him a gap-toothed smile.

"Za Dei haz biin varry Guudo."

Toji cuffed him a bit.

"My accent is way better than it was and you know it." If there was anything Toji had ever felt self conscious about, it was his occasionally gratuitous English. Hikari sounded like she'd lived over here all her life, dammit, and she was so _smug _about it.

"Steve, last warning. I know you saw Aida in his skivvies, but it couldn't have been that bad." Steve turned towards him with hollow eyes.

"I have stared into the abyss, and the abyss was kissing awkwardly."

Toji conceded the point and let the man have another pull.

He chewed on the surprisingly delicious pizza, quietly wondering when the Pizzaklown stuff had started tasting so good.

All of this was observed by the Quincunx from an array of security cameras. The supercomputer was baffled by this man, this Toji Suzuhara. How could someone be so backwards technologically in this day and age? It was 2030. They had _smarter_ phones now. Toji could barely work the landline in his office. They had _computer navigated cars_. Toji rode the bus to work. Internet speed was measured in double digit _gigabytes_ per second. _Toji could not operate AOL to check his email without the assistance of one of his children._ The Quincunx was curious of this man, this relic from another age. He hadn't been to college, made more money than all of the bridge staff combined per year, and yet the only thing he knew about megapixels was that his 10 year old daughter wanted a camera with 200 of them for her birthday this year. He was a complete and utter enigma.

"Query: Is Toji Suzuhara worth allocating permanent memory to?" Node #2 asked.

"Yes." was the immediate response of the Five.

There was a brief moment of processing, and 'Jenkins, Howard M.' cursed futilely as he was robbed of another dollar by the goddamn coffee machine.

000

Miles beneath the Earth's crust, it was beginning to take shape. It gorged on the magma, doubling its size every 4 hours. By midnight on the day the angel's mass was to fall, it had already outgrown its original body.

The Angel, if it had any discernibly human emotions besides fury and hatred, would have laughed maniacally. They could not know of its plan of attack, and the Lilium would die ignorant as they had lived.

000

Thomas was again exhausted beyond all belief. He had managed to convince Eric to stay in the increasingly crowded apartment after his breakdown, though he wouldn't be moving in til after the next angel was dealt with.

_Well, we could all die tomorrow. Then this whole fiasco would be a moot point. _

He rolled over on his bed and stared at the wall, and to the clock. The digital face read half past two.

_Mari..._

He hadn't allowed himself time to think about it lately. About Mari. About the Angel. He needed to focus on his work, but _damn it,_ he was human.

They had always called him a hero.

"The kid who made it."

"The boy who defeated ADAM."

"The true child of destiny."

"Godkiller."

It was all absolute horse shit. Thomas was none of these things. He was simply the pilot who drew the short straw. He really was envious of Shinji and Asuka. Even though they were dead to the world, they were happy in an extremely dysfunctional way. Maybe that was _why_ they were happy.

Thomas sat up, grabbed a bathrobe and went to unceremoniously kick Penpen out of the shower. Even though the penguin was temperamental, it knew when to just get out of the way for a while.

Thomas stood for minutes, hunched under the showerhead.

"Why am I so weak?" He whispered, and not even the gentle water could wash away his guilt.


	5. Light the Way: Chapter 5

Kensuke Aida stood facing the enormous window of his recently re-acquired office. It was nearly half the size of the Director's, and though Mr. Miura was a brilliant interior designer, it still had that lingering, crypt like feel of the original architecture. You could only do so much with black marble, after all.

He gazed out on the underground portion of New Houston. It had been directly modeled after Tokyo-3, the "City that had survived the apocalypse". Kensuke could tell you how close that moniker was to being completely false. Most of the city had been an absolute disaster zone after the attempted third impact. Hell, the UN was forced to step in and bring American troops to assist the Japanese government in bringing order to the city, something his home country was still a bit sore about.

There was a knock, and Kensuke rushed over to unlock his door. He was supposed to have an open door policy, but paranoia, like usual, had won out. Standing there was Michelle, clad in a fresh uniform with a stack of paperwork in her arms. Kensuke wondered why they were still using paperwork. Probably to make everything 'official.' What crap. Kensuke, as well as he was getting along with Michelle thus far, slipped.

"Michelle, why are you bringing _paperwork_ into my office?" he said, almost derisively. He inwardly kicked himself as soon as he realized how he'd sounded. She started.

"Well, I know you hate paperwork... But I guessed you wanted to have the things brought up from the CZ. S-sorry..." She looked distressed. Kensuke paused a moment. Then, for the first time in his entire life, he apologized to a girl.

"Sorry Michelle. I... I'm not used to all this work. Sorry." She brightened up immediately.

"These are all your incomplete blueprints. They're getting the prototypes brought right now, since the Angel will be here in a few hours. I'll be out in the main office if you need me, Dr. Aida." She said, handing him the stack of papers and exiting. Kensuke dropped the blueprints on his desk. They were all in "CLEARANCE LEVEL 5 ONLY" Folders.

Wait, How did she know they were blueprints?

He hurriedly opened the top folder. There were the blueprints to a rifle that fired supersonic pulses. It was ultimately flawed, since the prototype tended to shake apart after the first shot. The blueprint itself looked a bit odd, and as he held it up to the light, he say the indentations of erased pencil. He called her in on the intercom a minute later, holding up the blueprint as she came in.

"Michelle, did you not only look at these blueprints, but also _write_ on them?" She went white as a sheet.

"I-I! I can explain! I mean, I was carrying them up, and and and I dropped the folder and the blueprints came out and I looked at them and I know you're a genius Dr. Aida but I just saw some small problems with the designs and I tried to fix them! I really did!"

Aida handed the blueprint to her. "Replace all the annotations you've made on every one of these before you do anything else. Then, we go talk to the Director." She wilted.

"Yes, Dr. Aida. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused." Kensuke raised a brow.

"_Trouble? _Michelle, you fixed my design! We're going to the commander so we can get you promoted from my secretary to my assistant, not because you're in _trouble._ As an important aside, what gave you the idea to use _that_ kind of sound baffling in the design? Not to mention, the acoustics. I never would've thought of redirecting the kickback energy through the gun to recycle power."

Michelle blushed. "I dabble a bit in engineering."

Kensuke gave her a look.

"I'm working on my doctorate." She managed.

"Michelle, how about we go out to dinner this evening if we don't all die a horrible death in the Angel attack?"

"I'd love to!" she said, as they went to work furiously copying her writing back onto the blueprints.

**Chapter 5: A Stone's Throw From Disaster.**

It was just after four that morning when the pilots rolled into NERV HQ in Thomas' company Minivan.

"Homes, anyone ever told you this thing makes you look like a soccer mom?" Antonio quipped, hopping out of the back.

"It's a free car. I'm not complaining." Thomas retorted, the corner of his eye twitching from lack of sleep and irritation.

"Whatever you say, Senora."

Thomas waved the pilots off, and then walked to a different entrance inside the parking garage. The Angel was just two hours off, and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. _No wonder Katsuragi was always drinking coffee._ He thought, swiping his card and stepping onto the elevator. There was another NERV employee on it as well, one Thomas recognized as a low ranking bridge officer. She stood there quietly. The ride down to the bridge lasted nearly five minutes, the two in silence the whole way.

As the elevator 'Dinged' open, Thomas stepped off, and in his exhausted state, wondered. _If my life was a television show, would anyone watch this episode?_

000_  
><em>

Two states away, Mrs. Guerra was worried. She had seen the newscasts. She knew her son was safe and was doing his best, but she'd been up all night again worrying. She looked out the window, saw the yard of the nice home her husband had bought for them and their children, and cried. She was so selfish. Fifteen years, and she still hadn't forgotten about Sergio. William was a good man, but sometimes, no matter the years, you cannot forget someone you truly loved... Even if you only loved for a short time. She looked up to the early morning sky, and saw a line of fire. Mrs. Guerra knew what it was. She asked herself, before closing the curtains and laying down:

"_Will that be what kills my Child?"_

000_  
><em>

An hour before Antonio's mother would have looked up at the night sky, Thomas slammed his fist onto his desk and roared.

"What the **Hell** do you mean 'Blood type pattern blue: Negative!"

"Just what it says on the tin, sir. It's _not_ an Angel." Lieutenant Hayes managed, looking up from his monitor.

"So, then what is it, and better yet, where's it heading?"

"Sir," Lieutenant Folkertz began, "It's a meteor. About a half a kilometer wide, too. It's headed... Straight for here, Colonel."

Thomas held a hand over his mouth.

"How much of New Houston has been evacuated?"

"Well, all of the topside are in shelters down here for now. It's a lucky thing we had time to prepare."

"It got us right where it wanted us..." Thomas murmured.

"What was that, Sir?" asked Lieutenant Todd.

"Everyone in New Houston's trapped down here in the shelters. A half-kilometer meteor is going to _vaporize_ the entire city, all the way down. We'd be lucky if anyone survives, let alone the unfortunates at ground zero."

"I'd take it we're those unfortunates?" Ventured Lieutenant Todd.

"When aren't we? We need to cook something up fast. Hayes, give me some math on what angle that Meteor will be coming from. Folkertz, make sure that _not a word_ of this reaches the shelters. Rey, don't panic for the love of God. Todd, I think I'll need your help with something."

Lieutenant Maxwell Todd blinked quizzically, while Hayes rattled off a serious of coordinates.

"In English, please."

"You did ask for math..."

"Not the time, Hayes. What've we got?"

"Sir, the meteor will hit us at about 55 degree angle, and plow down and in through the New Houston Area if it keeps to its current course."

"Do the Railguns fire at that angle?"

"Well, yes... But the guidance systems are down. You fried them in the last attack, so there's no point in-"

"Oh yes there is. Lieutenant Todd, come with me."

000

The two took the emergency access lift up. It was labeled 'Freight only', namely because it was electromagnetically run, and rose at almost 200 miles per hour. Thomas and Lieutenant Todd lay on the floor, the G force of their lift watering their eyes for the 40 seconds they had to endure of it. They stepped out shakily, now above ground level. Thomas led his junior officer to the main Railgun, "The Lone Star". The two walked into the converted observatory that had once housed a massive telescope. Now, the building served as the maintenance base for New Houston's prime defense. The gun itself was large enough to launch its projectile, a 62.5 Ton tungsten alloy round the size of a two story house, at escape velocity. It was perched on an unoccupied and barren hill, so that any possible nasty aftereffects of shooting wouldn't harm any buildings or start a fire.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Lieutenant Todd said sternly.

"Granted."

"Why on Earth did you drag me up here?"

"Because I read your file when I brought aboard, and saw something interesting on your resume."

"And what was that, Sir?"

"You're MLG for first person shooters, right?"

"So, I play video games on my off time. And I'm good at them. Why does this matter, Sir?"

"You're not just good, you're one of the best at killing things with a mouse and keyboard. Hell, you finished first at last month's tournament here in town. Not to mention, you're the only one who I can feasibly find, requisition, and temporarily promote to enough rank for the mission at hand."

Maxwell Todd looked up at the towering Railgun.

"You're not serious right now, are you? Oh God, you are."

Thomas had that crazy grin on his face again as he rattled off orders to the Railgun maintenance crew.

"We're going to need a good mouse and keyboard! You there, call our software department and get the Quincunx to make a GUI targeting system with Human interfacing for our gunner. And you... Yes You, the guy by the vending machine! Get us something with _lots_ of caffeine... make that _lots_ of somethings. I have a feeling we'll all need it before this is through."

000

Antonio was already suited up by the time the plan was explained to him.

"You're tellin' me you're gonna have some guy who plays video games way to much save us from a frickin' meteor, Homes?"

Thomas, now back down on the bridge, nodded through the comm link, can of "Jitters Soda" in hand.

"Now tell me again why I'm being sent out?"

"Even if we're entirely successful one the first shot, we're going to need someone manually aiming the smaller Railguns to clean up the larger debris from the meteor. We've managed to get enough people who know their way around a shooter to man most of them, but we still need one more. Think you'd be up to the job?"

"So what you're saying, Homes, is that I have to shoot parts of a meteor out of the sky by hand?"

"If 'by hand' means with a mouse and keyboard, then yes, yes you do."

"Sweet. When do I start?"

"In 15 minutes. That's when the Meteor comes into range. Good luck, Antonio."

000

Major Maxwell Todd tested the setup they'd rigged for him. _Mouse, decent quality optical. Keyboard, standard gaming. Rig, infallible supercomputer. Let's hope those cameras are real time. Testing ping... Good. .5 M/S. That'll be enough. One last test... _

Maxwell took a sip of his 'Jitters Soda.'

_Soda is at optimum temperature. Let's get going, shall we gentlemen?_

The VOIP client the other members of his 'Squads' were using relayed everything in almost real time. He began the roll call.

"Leaders, are you there?"

"_Green squad is present and accounted for."_

"_Orange squad hears ya loud an' clear."_

"_Blue Squad, waiting for orders."_

"_Gray Squad, locked and loaded."_

"_Who's the wiseguy that put the Mexican in 'Brown squad'?_

"Brown Leader, your concerns are duly noted, but they'll have to wait. We have hostiles coming in hot at 12 O'clock."

Maxwell had to give the Quincunx some props. The Computer had designed a GUI for Manual Railgun aim that was both visually appealing and functional. His currently equipped (And only) weapon was displayed in the bottom right corner along with all of his ammo, or rather, lack thereof. There were only 10 projectiles for "The Lone Star" ever made due to extremely high cost and the sheer time it took to produce one. It also took half an hour to properly rechamber, so missing wasn't high on his agenda for that morning.

"Target closing. 45 seconds till it comes into maximum range. I'm going to wait five seconds to take the shot, which gives everyone a 20 second window to eliminate any extra targets. Acknowledged?

A volley of "_Rogers" and a _"_Sure thing Vato"_ came through his noise canceling headphones.

Todd took a last chug from his Soda, belched, and then got ready to save New Houston.

000

Some eight miles away from where Todd was preparing to make the shot, Antonio was sitting uncomfortably in his plugsuit.

"Man, can't they make these things breathe better?" he muttered, before the Mic chatter suddenly stopped. He looked at the monitor in front of him, and saw a real time feed of "The Lone Star" carefully adjust its aim, hold for a second, and then fire with a brilliant flash.

He looked through his own feed and saw the meteor, now entering the atmosphere, cruise for a moment... Then get blasted to pieces. There were only four major shards of it, and Antonio was about to relax his grip on the mouse when someone yelled: "I can't take the shot! We don't have the angle for it!" and then seconds later, "Neither can we! It got knocked off course by the initial shot!"

Two of the other railguns fired, however, and two of the shards broke into even smaller pieces.

Antonio was sweating.

"Come on, come on...!" He whispered, desperately trying to align his reticule with the shard.

"Lead your Target, Brown leader! It takes time for those things to travel!"

Antonio Jerked his cross-hair ahead and made the shot. The whole facility rumbled as 12 tons of Tungsten alloy Railgun round blazed across the sky.

In less than a second, the round smashed into the third of the shards, reducing it to what seemed to be pebbles. A fourth shot fired three seconds later, pulping the final chunk of meteor.

There was cheering from over the mic, then the facility around Antonio erupted into applause.

"I guess we did it." Antonio managed before slumping down into his chair.

Then, the facility rumbled again.

"The hell? Did it shoot again?" Antonio looked around, and the other members of the facility did the same. From over the VOIP, He heard other, similar questions. Then, the rumbling stopped.

And the shaking began.

000

Down on the bridge, Thomas was just finishing off his third can of "Jitters" and fist pumping in celebration along with the rest of the crew when Lieutenant Rocye Folkertz looked down at his beeping console and screamed.

"BLOOD TYPE PATTERN BLUE DETECTED! IT'S AN ANGEL!"

"What! Already? Put the thing on the main screen!"

"Sir, we can't! The pattern was detected _more than a mile below the Geofront!"_

_Could this day possibly get any worse?_ Thomas wondered, and for his trouble, it did.

"Sir, the Angel..."

"What about it, Hayes?"

"It's got no AT Field signature, but the system is detecting it at almost a kilometer in size."

"There's obviously a mistake. Run the diagnostic on the system and scan again."

"Already done that twice sir. It's reading right."

Thomas sat down and tried breathing again.

"Where's it headed?" he asked weakly.

"Current course projects it'll surface 15 miles from New Houston's city limits."

"What? It's not coming right into the Geofront?"

"No sir. The Geofront's all bedrock. It'd take it hours to break through, even for something that big. Outside the city, there's much softer ground. That thing is smart."

"Too damn smart." Thomas growled. "Aida said he had superweapons. We're going to be needing them, now."

000

Kensuke Aida was roused from his gentle repose on the office floor by the telephone. He staggered up and answered.

"Whaddya want?"

"Angel Attack. We need something that can kill a mountain."

"Kill a mountain? Mountains are inanimate, you can't kill-"

"The angel is a kilometer tall."

"On it right now." Kensuke said, now fully awake. He put the telephone down. He _loved _when people asked him for his stuff. Especially the stuff they would need to take down an angel that big.

"Michelle?" He said softly. She was snoring like a chainsaw, right next to where he'd been on the floor.

"Michelle." He said a little louder, shaking her a bit. She remained fast asleep.

"MICHELLE!" he shouted. Still no response.

"And just when we were going to fight a 3500 foot tall angel with the stuff you helped make." he said, sadly. Michelle sat up fully awake. face now inches away from his.

"When do we fight it, what with, and how many pieces will it be in when we're done?"

"Right now, The Pulse rifle, and _too many to count."_

There was one thought going through both of their minds right now.

_Is this what love feels like?_

000_  
><em>

Peter and Helen had been down in the Pilot lounge for the past hour, waiting quietly as the general flurry of activity passed them by. Peter finally broke the silence.

"Ms. Guest, why are you here?" Helen looked at him oddly.

"You don't always have to call me 'Ms. Guest', you know. I do have a first name."

"I was brought up to be polite, Ms. Guest. The question still stands however."

"Why are _you_ here, then?"

"I do believe I asked first."

"I dunno. I guess it just felt like the thing to do? They didn't give me much choice."

"Is that all? I hear they gave you a choice as to whether or not you wanted to make the journey."

"Do I need a reason? I said yes, and that's all there is to it." She said, now a bit irritated.

"Ms. Guest, There is a reason for everything. I am a man of God, but that does not make me any less curious of people. You stand up to those who would harm others using yourself as a shield. You have compassion, but are too willing to give it. You make yourself vulnerable, but at the same time, the door to your heart is closed. Ms. Guest, you are a contradictory person. Why is this?"

Her face was red with indignation.

"Who are you to claim to know me! I do what I do because... because I want to! That's reason enough!"

Peter smiled lightly.

"I'm sure I'll get the real reason eventually. You've provided me with plenty of insight for now."

Helen fumed in silence for a good five minutes, then finally said irately:

"So, Why are _you_ here?"

"Because I want to be."

"Nice reason, hypocrite."

"I have not fully explained myself. I am here because I want to be. The reason I wish to be here is because I... I could no longer stay at the Vatican."

"There's a story here. Go on."

"The other boys there had their minds full of politics and power, not of God as they should. Most of the Bishops, now that I can see things with some perspective, were corrupt. How is one to do God's work in a place where God has never, and will never, be present?" Helen averted Peter's tranquil gaze.

"I have already made friends since I came here. Even if I must pilot that abomination, I will do it with my head held high. I know that even if the church denounces my task and speaks of me as a heretic, if I carry the light of God in my heart and his teachings in my mind, I will surely do the Heavenly Father's work."

Helen stared at the floor.

"How can you be so sure? You've never seen God. How do you know he exists at all?"

"Because, Ms. Guest, I have faith."

000

The Pilots, sans Eric, were ready for sortie 15 minutes later. Thomas' voice over the comm link was calm, but had an underlying layer of panic.

"We've got 15 minutes until Dr. Aida says he can get you his 'Superweapon'. You've got to buy us some time before we can deploy it. Helen, I'm sorry, but if you can get that thing moving at all, you're going out. Peter, Likewise. Antonio... Well, we're counting on you as point-man again this mission. Eric's still sleeping off his... testing injuries, So you're what we've got. Pilots, prepare for launch!

The Plugs began to fill with LCL and the Systems went live.

Up on the bridge, Thomas looked through the numbers of each pilot's synch ratio. Antonio was holding at a steady 71% thanks to some practice and a custom fit plugsuit, Helen's was below 25%, and Peter's was nonexistent.

"Damn, we can't send just Antonio out again. Come on, come on...!"

Down in the Eva hangars, Helen sat in her Eva's plug, numb. What Peter had said had really gotten to her. He was right about most of it, and she was ashamed of that, but moreso that he had given her really good advice. She was the one who always gave advice. She always was the comforting one. She was always the shield from harm.

And his smile had been so warm.

Helen tried to focus, she really did. She gave it her all, but Peter's words resounded in her mind.

_Faith. Is that what I lack? Okay then, I'll try believing. Not in God. There is no God. I'll try by believing something small. _

_I believe I can make this thing work._

Helen let some of her rock solid cynicism go. It wasn't pleasant, but she guessed it couldn't hurt to try just this once. She felt something warm whisper softly to her, the words undecipherable but comforting like a foreign lullaby.

Her Synch ratio jumped from 25% to 62% in an instant. Thomas yelled at Hayes to check the equipment again, and as the ratio held, broke into a grim smile.

"Alright! Even if we can't get Peter out, a two person team stands a remote chance-"

"About 63%, Sir. They've both got good synch ratios and the Angel is moving rather slowly." Hayes dutifully reported.

"If you cut short my dramatic speech again, I'm having you reported to the Director, and by that, I mean his wife."

A cold wind blew through the bridge.

"Next time wait till after I'm done. Now, Evangelion Units 07 and 08, LAUNCH!"

000

The Second Angel broke the surface as projected, some 20 miles outside of New Houston. It surveyed its surroundings, deciding to cut a swath of destruction to the place where the Lilium gathered. He would burn their follies to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes and the broken shells of their false Idols.

Rising to its full height, a chorus of dissonance sounded as it razed a cross shape patch of earth in front of it five miles long.

Its gaze fell upon two of the Lilium's false gods emerging from their 'City.'

Turiel was a being of awe and majesty. Its armor, made of the very earth they profaned with their presence, was thicker than any before it. It was taller, stronger, and smarter than any before it, and it would be victorious as none before it.

It roared and touched the minds of the two Lilium operating the mockeries of God.

_**I am Turiel, The Rock of God. **_

_**Sinners who profane the house of God**_

_**Prepare for your judgment. **_

_**I will raze your monuments**_

_**Burn your livelihood,**_

_**and sow your fields with salt. **_

_**For I am God's chosen**_

_**I shall carry out my mission with his praises upon my lips**_

_**and bring Glory to all the heavenly host. **_

_**Lilium, be eradicated in the name of God.**_

Antonio flung out a whole string of Spanish curses as the two Units came into view of the Angel.

"They're not serious about us killing this thing, right? IT'S A DAMN MOUNTAIN."

Antonio and Helen froze as the Angel touched their minds, leaving them chilled by its words and presence.

"Well," Helen began shakily over the Comm link, "It seems friendly enough."

"If you wanna pet the thing, go for it. I ain't cleanin' you up off its foot though."

Helen's steps in Unit 08 were still wavering as she advanced. She'd gotten the hang of it fast enough, but she still had to consciously think to keep balance. Thomas' face came up on their comm links.

"Alright, you two just have to keep it busy for the next 12 minutes. Aida's getting the weapon ready still, but you'll get your trump card soon. Stay safe out there, don't do anything rash, and do your best to keep it out of the city."

"Easy for you to say, Homes. We have a mountain that wants us dead staring us down right now."

"Good luck~" Thomas said a bit too cheerily. Antonio saw a large stack of 'Fallen soldiers' behind him on his desk through the comm link.

"Yeah, we're gonna need it." he muttered before dashing off towards the towering Angel.

000

Peter sat in the darkened entry plug of Evangelion Unit 09.

_Why won't you call my name?_ The voice whispered, solemnly.

"You are an Abomination. I will pilot you, but I will never call your name."

_These things are not mutually exclusive, Child. _

"I will not call your name."

_That is rather hypocritical, is it not?_

"I am a man of God. You are temptation. I will not succumb."

_That is a harsh accusation, Child. I am not temptation, merely freedom._

"Your sweet words hide lies, Serpent."

_I am no Devil. It is not without incidence, however, that Lucifer was often sympathetic to man. _

"I shall not be swayed."

_So be it. It would be wise to see what the future holds before passing final judgment, Child._

The whisper melted to nothing, and Peter sat in the dark, silent plug.

"_I shall not be swayed."_


	6. Light the Way: Chapter 6

Up in his office, Shiro Miura sat at his desk watching the live feed from topside. He really didn't hate his job per se, but _God was it stressful. _He opened up one of the locked drawers of his desk and took out a small case, labeled "MTWTHFSSU" opened one of the compartments, and popped a handful of pills that would've made Elvis jealous, taking them with a swig of some sort of heart healthy vegetable juice. He would've preferred a mixed drink, but not only was that "unhealthy", it probably would've killed from from the sheer amount of prescription medication he had in his system. Honestly, Shiro would not have been surprised if he was pissing straight prozac sometimes. Not to mention, Abigail said mixed drinks were too girly. _So what if I like long island iced tea? It's a perfectly legitimate beverage... and one I wish I had right now. Maybe a little time in the hospital would do me good._

Fifteen minutes later, Shiro was sitting there, far calmer. He placidly watched the video feed, until the Angel came on screen. It was _half a mile high._

Shiro took out a small bottle from inside a secret compartment of his desk. The only markings on it were "Angel Attack" in Shiro's own handwriting. He took a single pill out and swallowed it.

Five minutes later Abigail found him giggling in his chair.

"Dear, _what_ are you doing?"

"Lookit! I'm taller than the angel now! Whoosh!"

Abigail snorted.

"You certainly are mile-high right now. One of these days I'm going to find whatever makes you like this and try one myself."

"That isn't healthy, Dear! Unless you take it with Apple juice, then it's A-OK."

Abigail, with a sigh, pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

"I'm sorry that things have to be this way." Shiro looked at her oddly.

"We wanted something normal, right? This isn't normal. What about our plan? What about a family?"

Shiro visibly sobered for a moment.

"Abigail, there's no point in starting a family if they aren't safe. I haven't forgotten our promise. We will have a family and be as normal as we can be some day. For now, we have to survive, to ensure a happy world for our children."

Abigail smiled and kissed him on the cheek, then leaned against him as they watched their future defended.

Shiro wasn't the only one who'd taken their medication this morning.

**Chapter 6: In the Shadow of the Colossus. **

"AAAAAA-" Antonio screamed, getting that 'little girl sound' just about right. For the seventh or eighth time in the past three minutes, he'd barely avoided getting 'Pimp slapped by a mountain'. Helen was desperately giving him covering fire. The Pallet gun's bullets ("Why did they even make those things still? Seriously, they hadn't worked the first time, why would they now?" Was Kensuke's usual protest.) did nothing to the titanic angel, who looked at her with something bordering eldritch indifference.

Antonio was busy scurrying around the stocky Angel's legs, dodging the swats for the time being. He didn't know how on earth they were going to have any chance of denting this thing. The angel as it stood, was over 3000 feet, with a stocky, squat body and short limbs. There was no visible core.

"Damn thing is cheating!" Antonio swore. They ALWAYS had to have a reachable weak spot, right? Having a giant suit of armor was just _unfair._

Helen peppered the right leg with another hail of fire. The thing looked down at her condescendingly, as if to say "Pffft. _Really?_ And fired a cross shaped beam that would have scorched the ground right where she'd been. Unfortunately, her cable was still in the way, and the power line popped off with a blast of air. Batteries counted down from 10 minutes.

"Why only 10 minutes! Antonio's got 16 left and he's been on batteries for almost 10 minutes already!"

"Helen, your Eva's actually smaller than his is, not to mention we couldn't fully charge it before you went out. You can't just plug an EVA into a wall outlet and let it charge overnight. It takes nearly 24 hours at least to charge one up fully, especially with the new low loss systems. The weapon will be up in about five minutes, just keep slowing it down."

Well, at least she was getting the hang of this piloting thing. She did a perfect shoulder roll to evade another cross-blast, then emptied the remainder of her clip at the thing before tossing aside the obviously useless weapon. She was about to dive out of the way of another cross blast when her Eva's foot caught on an underpass and she fell flat on her face.

She flipped up as fast as she could, but the beam was right there-

The warm whispering crescendoed. Helen could feel the heat of the beam almost there, almost burning through her Eva and incinerating the plug. But it did not. A pattern of Hexagons exploded from her Eva's outstretched hand and the beam held fast, trying to surge against the barrier but unable to pierce it.

She saw the hexagons, she comprehended them. She did not know what they were or why they were there, but for a single brief instant, she knew this was not simple fortune.

And she had faith.

The Hexagons folded in on themselves and let the beam bend in. Then, it flung the energy backwards not unlike a trampoline at the gigantic angel.

The beam may have lost some momentum in the throwback, or perhaps the angel was _that_ tough, because even though there was now a 500 foot gash in the Mountain's armor, it was not deep enough to break the shell, let alone land a mortal blow.

Helen's battery dropped from 9:12 to 2:56, and her Eva shuddered, the warm whispers leaving her.

Time remaining until superweapon deployment: 3 minutes.

000

Down in the Geofront, at a recently commissioned hangar normally used for storing Airplane parts, Kensuke Aida and Michelle barked off orders at a swarm of technicians who were quickly (But not quickly enough) putting "The Harmonator" together from the edited blueprint. A working model of this design had never been made, so they were basically flying by the seat of their pants. Then again, when weren't they here at NERV?

"Dr. Aida," the foreman began, "We've got the thing mostly ready to go. The design calls for a sound pattern to be programmed into the weapon for firing. I assumed you had something in mind?" Aida Smirked.

"Of course I do." Kensuke strutted over to the computer terminal, and with a flourish, brought out his Smartphone and USB 4.0 connector. He frantically tapped on the keyboard, clicked the mouse a few times, and then unplugged it.

"Alright, your sound pattern is ready to go. Ship this thing out!"

000

To NERV Houston's credit, they were more prepared than Tokyo-3 had been 15 years ago. There were several way stations inside of New Houston where an Eva could draw a line out and charge up if there was a lull in battle. With less than 30 seconds left, Helen yanked the cable out of the side of the station and jammed it into her Eva's back. She was nearly four miles distant from the battle, and though she was still reeling from the shock of using those hexagon things, She wanted to go back in.

_Antonio's by himself out there, and I can't do anything. _

A siren blared, and Helen looked over to a NERV Geofront elevator that had almost certainly _not_ had a a very odd looking gun there a second ago. Thomas' voice came in over her comm line.

"That's the weapon! Antonio's on his last legs out there, give it all you've got!"

Helen grabbed the gun, also attached to an umbilical cable, and hefted it up.

"Don't fire in bursts. Kensuke says it's more effective on the full auto setting, and Helen, aim for where you hurt it earlier, that'll probably- - - - …... …." But Thomas' words become mere buzzing then totally indistinguishable from the roaring cacophony of the gun's fire. Once Helen's ears had adjusted slightly to the almost eardrum-breaking level of noise, she heard something.

_Is that a guitar solo?_

000_  
><em>

They later called it the "Righteous Reckoning". From deep in the shelters, every person of New Houston could hear the the sound. One of them in particular, a young musician who would one day rise to world-wide fame, quoted this very moment as the turning point of his career years later.

"Y'see, I was always more of a country music kind of guy. You know, pickup trucks, drinking, acoustic? That all changed on the Righteous Reckoning. That was the day I became Metal."

000

With the sheer ambient decibel force of a rocket launch, "The Harmonator" launched a beam of ultra concentrated sound waves. The waves hit the crystalline armor of the Angel for nearly a minute. It stood fast for a moment in ponderous silence as if thinking of something nice to say to a very nice but very ugly lady hitting on it.

Then, It started to hum. Antonio, currently below the thing, screamed in Spanish before making a mad sprint out from under it. A good choice, since massive chunks of the armor began falling right above him. He scampered out, and just as he cleared the debris zone, another blast hit the gargantuan angel. Even more layers of its armor sloughed off.

Then, he saw the core pulsing brightly against the now rosy morning sky.

"Alright, Lemme take it from here, Helen. I'll take this Puta down all the way."

Antonio drew a pair of prog knives and clicked them on.

"Let's dance."

000

This had been most vexing. Turiel, almighty chosen of God, had been pierced by their petty weapons. It was not dead yet, however, and would not falter. It had come this far, after all. Their choice of weapons had been quite odd. Choosing to use sound as a weapon? Especially the strange sounds that they used, almost like talking but not quite.

Turiel had kept making out "OUR SOULS AND OUR SPIRITS WILL GO ON- FOR ALL OF ETERNITY." in the language of the Lilium.

Whatever that meant.

Then, the one who had been running about his legs strode forward, two of the weapons that had slain so many of his kind in the past in its hands.

_How strange. _Turiel thought. _What is this I sense within myself? It is alien to me. _

Antonio charged, and before Turiel could properly eradicate it, it vanished.

_Where did it go?_ Mused the Angel, before a quarter second later, it's legs were swept out from under it. Antonio held the Prog knives up, about to stab into the Angel's core.

_Is this what is this what is this emotion I feel make it stop make it stop get away GET AWAY GET AWAY GOD HELP ME GET AWAY- _The Angel knew what this was. The Lilium called it fear. But it did not register it could feel such a thing, it was an invincible titan. A panicking invincible titan.

With an unhealthy jerk, Antonio's Evangelion came to a halt right before the coup de grace. The Angel snapped back to its senses.

_And so God's plan is done. I have been tested. I have succeeded._

The angel stood, still nearly a time and a half the size of Unit 07 and began to pummel the everloving daylights out of it with alien fists.

_**You have shown me fear. I shall return the favor, Lilium.**_

000_**  
><strong>_

Down on the bridge, Thomas slammed his fist onto his desk, then winced, rubbing it. He'd been doing an awful lot of that lately, and it was starting to bruise.

"What the HELL just happened!"

"Sir, we've got a faulty battery detected. Was reading full charge, but it was almost dry."

"Hayes! Get me some math on if Helen can still hit the Angel!"

"No good, Sir! She'd hit Antonio too, and he'd get pulped inside the entry plug!"

Thomas looked down.

_No, It can't go this way... COME ON KATSURAGI PLAN!_

But there was nothing.

Then, a voice crackled over the Radio.

"_Red leader, taking the shot."_

000_  
><em>

Major Maxwell Todd had been Major League Gaming since College. He'd been honing his craft and earning extra money on the side for years now, and when he saw Antonio lose power and go down, He knew what he had to do. Since he now had the authority to order "The Lone Star" to be rechambered, he had half an hour ago. Better safe than sorry, right?

Sitting down at the computer, he aimed the reticule, made some mental adjustments for wind speed and distance. The entire facility was silent, all eyes on him.

Exhaling, he took the shot.

Sixty-two and a half tons of Tunsgten Alloy flew out with enough force to leave a trail of plasma behind it.

The Angel never saw it coming, really.

000

Turiel roared in victory. One more blow would crack this false God's armor and destroy it. There was an odd sensation, but the Angel Disregarded it focusing its AT field, utterly focused on the task at hand.

Then the giant ball of pain rocketed into its chest, and with a horrible squeal, Turiel looked down to see the ball lodged firmly in its core. _It BURNED. _Turiel screaming inwardly as the glowing hot ball melted its way deeper into its core.

_Impossible. I was defeated not by the false Gods, but by their allies? Never... _

And then with a final howl of dissonance, Turiel withered to stone, blood flowing down through the cracks of its 'Skeleton' to the burned and parched ground below it.

There was stunned silence on the bridge. Thomas stood, mouth agape. Then Lieutenant Folkertz said simply: "Blue Pattern eliminated. The Angel's dead, Sir."

Thomas began to come back to his senses. He clicked his bluetooth headset and spoke.

"Major Todd. I think we're going to be making this promotion permanent."

"_Roger that, Colonel."_

The entire bridge began applauding, then erupting into cheers. Maxwell Todd had shown them how it was done. There may be over a dozen of the things left, and this may have been only the second, and the Eva pilots had done a good bit too, but... but...!

One of their number had ascended the ranks to that of Angel killer. Thomas wondered if his budget would allow for a party tomorrow night. Considering that one of the bridge staff had just saved a Pilot's life, probably.

And really, what's one party for making the world safe for another day?

000

School had of course been called off that day. Antonio lay asleep in his bed, bruised but otherwise fine. With Helen likewise out cold in her room, Thomas still at work, and Penpen in the shower, Peter decided that it would be the perfect time to catch the TV Mass. As he flipped channels up to "946: The Catholic Network" Something caught his eyes. Going back a few stations, he saw that on a classic movie channel, a film was beginning. Peter hadn't seen very many entertainment videos at the Vatican, and while he knew many contemporary films to be poor profane works catering to the lowest demographics, he knew that some classic films from before the second impact were worth perhaps viewing.

Needless to say, when "Ben-Hur" began playing, Peter was _absolutely _transfixed.

Nearly three hours later, as the credits rolled, Peter was sitting about two feet away from the massive flatscreen occupying Thomas' living room. He sat through the after movie commentary, and learned that 'Academy Awards' were used as a rough measuring tool to determine a movie's quality.

_Interesting._

Luckily for Peter, Thomas had left his computer up and running in his office. An internet search was all it took to find a list of academy award winning films.

After looking at the categories, he realized that the award that meant the most was 'Best Picture', though that sounded like merely a graphical detail, it was for the best film.

He printed out a list, and had it nice and neat in a folder by the time Thomas returned at Five that afternoon. The man looked utterly drained, but he was glad to see that Peter was looking less somber than usual. In fact, Peter looked almost excited.

"Hello, Peter. Sorry it took me so long to get back. All of the paperwork is mind boggling, and then there was a meeting." Peter merely grinned.

Thomas, while pleasantly surprised to see Peter so happy, couldn't help but wonder what had happened in his absence.

"What's going on? You're looking awful cheery."

"Mr. Rydell, I was going to watch the Television Mass Today when I was waylaid by another program.

"I know that feeling. Go on." Thomas chuckled.

"It was a film called "Ben-Hur". It is quite famous, and it is also the first full length Hollywood movie I have ever seen." Thomas gave an appreciative whistle.

"I have heard that we pilots receive salaries. Would it be possible for me to use this salary to purchase some films I have heard are also enjoyable?"

"Of course. Normally you kids can't get into it till you're Eighteen, but how much do you need? A Hundred or two?"

"I will be needing Four thousand dollars." Thomas double-taked. "Many of these movies are quite rare in this day and age. I wish to see as many of them as I can before they disappear forever."

Thomas paused for a moment, and Peter handed him the folder.

"You kids have to fight horrible monsters on a regular basis. I'll get your money, Peter." Peter _beamed._ "May I suggest you start with the 'Star Wars' films? I think you may enjoy them."

The other two Eva pilots were still asleep when Thomas had set up the digital downloads for the films and ordered Chinese, and were still asleep when he went to bed, full of food and with the opening credits of the first movie playing. As soon as Thomas his the mattress, he was out.

000

Thomas woke up a minute before his alarm, at 7:59. He hopped out of bed for the first time in weeks, feeling more rested than he had... well, since he could remember actually. He put on an undershirt and some pants, and made his way out to the kitchen. Eating breakfast were Antonio and Helen, both bleary eyed from nearly a full day of sleep, and in stark contrast, almost _humming_ with energy next to them was Peter.

He made his way over to the coffee pot, finding it just as empty as he'd left it. Thank god he'd gotten some milk and cereal last night, otherwise it would've been a far too late lunch again.

He sat down with a bowl of Admiral Crisp, (Now with more Bungleberries in every bite!) and began shoveling the stuff into his mouth.

"Homes, I gotta ask. Why are you eating Cereal that isn't like, Fiber-O's or something?"

"Because I'm not old yet."

"You're like 45 Homes. You should give up trying to act like a kid and-"

"I'm Twenty-Nine, thanks. And I'll have you know Admiral Crisp is a perfectly fine cereal for an adult to be eating."

"There's a toy at the bottom of every box."

"Maybe I can appreciate the finer qualities of..." Thomas paused, looking at the box.

"Joke noses. There are many intricacies you kids just wouldn't understand."

Even Antonio had to chuckle. Homes was a good guy, and he rolled with the punches pretty well.

"So, Peter. How was the "A New Hope?" Thomas asked, muffled slightly by the mouthful of cereal he was working on chewing.

"It was a very good film. Though, I found the "The Return of the Jedi" to be more to my liking, in terms of pacing, character dynamic and story."

"You... wait. Did you stay up and watch all of them?"

"Yes, and it was worth the loss of sleep. Mr. Rydell, why did you not tell me earlier how delicious "Soda" was? I must have had five cans before I read the nutritional information and stopped myself."

_I don't have soda here, only beer. WAIT. _Thomas' thought process froze. He'd left a twelve pack of Jitters in the entryway last night when Peter had ambushed him about the movies. _Uh oh._

Jitters Soda had been made illegal in 14 countries and 9 states due to its absurd caffeine content. The stuff almost tasted metallic at first, then the raw sugar and perfected flavoring kicked in and you just sort of kept drinking it until you fell into a diabetic coma. Thomas was a Jitters veteran, and 3 got him on edge pretty well. He kinda felt sorry for a newbie going 5 cans on his first run.

_Poor boy won't sleep for days._ he mused.

000

Elsewhere in New Houston, the morning started a bit differently for Kensuke Aida and Michelle Nielen. For Kensuke Aida, it began with a hangover and a bit of raw paranoia. The room was dark, the curtains still drawn.

"Where am I...? He muttered.

"My place." Michelle's voice muttered back, seeming rather close.

"What happened last night?" Kensuke asked again, still groggy.

"We both ate dinner, drank way to much, and stumbled back here."

"Why am I not wearing anything right now?"

"If it makes you feel any better, neither am I."

Kensuke snapped to wakefulness.

"D-did we-!"

"Yes. Now can we just sleep? It hurts to think."

Kensuke's jaw dropped. Little bits of last night were creeping back to him, and _boy_ had it been a night.

Kensuke had only one more question.

"Uh, Michelle, why am I handcuffed to the bed?"

000

For Shiro And Abigail Miura, the day began in wrinkled clothes, waking peacefully next to each other for the first time in months. The sunlight was creeping across the floor of Shiro's office, and he wished the peace could last just a bit longer.

He pried himself out of the great armchair that had become a cramped but comfortable two-seater last night. Abigail stirred, but slept on. Shiro stumbled across his office to a door marked 'Employees only' and stepped inside. Inside was a full kitchen, and as Shiro began making a full breakfast, he blinked the sleep from his eyes. Yesterday had certainly been hectic, and he was glad it was time for the cleanup and return to normalcy. In ten minutes, he'd whipped up a rather impressive meal, and carried it out to his desk where his wife was still sleeping. At the sound of the tray making contact with the desk, she opened her eyes.

"You made me breakfast? God, Shiro, you're such a bitch."

Shiro deflated. _I suppose everything good must come to an end eventually._

She stood up and kissed him.

"But you're my bitch and I love you for it."

Well, maybe not yet.

000

Meanwhile, orbiting the Earth was... The Moon.

He loved that sort of melodrama.

The man gazing out the great reinforced windows of the lunar base had always loved the dramatic, in all its forms. His name was Gendou Ikari, and he was starting to feel the fact that he was 63, especially this morning. His graying hair gave him an even more foreboding composure, and his trademark amber lenses reflected light from the Earth, obscuring his eyes for any who would speak to him from this angle. It plain unfortunate that his wing of the base was empty right now, negating the possibility of a visitor.

Gendou stepped down from his viewing spot and and made his way across the room to his waiting breakfast. Removing the lid, he saw to his pleasure that the eggs were sunny side up this time, and that his morning martini had a fresh swatch of child tears in it.

Actually, it only had an olive in it, but the story had spread like wildfire around the base after it been started by none other than Gendou himself. Reputation is everything, after all.

A call came in on his personal line. Gendou let it ring 10 times before answering it.

"Yes." he said, taking a sip from his morning pick-me-up."We've been researching the Quincunx's descriptions of the Brother of ADAM, and so far, they've panned out. Yes, I know it sounds preposterous. No, we still have contingency plans. It will proceed as planned."

Hanging up the phone, Gendou steepled his hands and smirked. Everything was as planned. There would be no disruptions this time.

He was to be God, and he would not be denied.


	7. Light the Way: Chapter 7

By the time the Pilots had eaten breakfast, cleaned up, and gotten dressed, it was nearly 10 in the morning. Thomas had already decided that the Pilots were going to attend that evening's party at NERV, and they needed something more formal than T-shirts for the event. Eric was scheduled to move in tomorrow after school, so Thomas had some time with his current roommates.

"Alright, I know you all may have had some plans, but we're going shopping today." Thomas said brightly, turning off the Television in the middle of Peter's recorded TV Mass. Peter looked rather perturbed, but Helen and Antonio breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"Mr. Rydell, do we have to go now? The mass is only another half hour..."

"Sorry Peter, but the party begins at four, and we have to get you all some formal clothes." Thomas stated. Helen lit up at the mention of 'Formal clothes'.

"What's our budget?" Helen asked, a gleam in her eye.

"_What _budget? You saved the world. Get the nicest outfit you want, you've earned it."

Helen had a devilish grin as she spun to the boys.

"Antonio! Peter! We're going shopping, whether you like it or not!"

"Hoo boy, here goes. From one disaster to another." Antonio groaned.

Helen clapped.

"It'll be such fun!"

**Chapter 7: A Pleasant Interim.**

The group marched down the street four abreast, and Thomas questioned if the sunglasses they were all wearing made them look more suspicious than they would have normally. They got some odd looks, but no one stopped them in the street and asked for autographs, and that was _something_ at least.

The merry band made it to the department store that Thomas had intended on going to, but Helen kept walking a bit past the entrance. She about-faced and began to pull Thomas onwards.

"This place isn't nice enough. Their things don't cost more than Four digits! If we have an unlimited budget, I'm spending as much of it as I can." Thomas had an odd feeling she meant that in every way.

After another five or six blocks of walking, they came to "Hepstaed's Formal wear" a store built with style in mind. They had some serious fashion here; Thomas was out of his league.

"Helen, I hope you know what you're doing."

"I've read magazines and such! I _know_ style."

Thomas reluctantly opened the doors to the entrance and the group filed in.

Helen was like a child at a very expensive playground. She was off in a flash, leaving the startled boys to fend for themselves in a very foreign jungle. A few stunned moments later, a willowy man in a _very_ nice suit approached them, rubbing his hands together.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he said, lisping slightly.

Thomas pursed his lips. _Where is our liaison when we need her?_ He thought. Peter was likewise flummoxed. Antonio, on the other hand, coughed into his hand and spoke to him in completely unaccented English with a previous unnoticed underlying bass.

"My compatriots and I wish to view your Men's suits. We will need them to be fitted and tailored immediately after our selection, the event is in mere hours. Needless to say, we will gladly pay any gratuity for your efforts. As an important aside, the girl who darted off is with us. Please 'help her select' a dress. She's 'read the magazines', and we both know what that means."

Thomas walked in stunned silence as the suited man led them back to Men's suit section, where Antonio quickly picked out three absolutely phenomenal looking suits. He quickly held each of them in front of Peter and Thomas, then asked the willowy man to find Helen. Thomas wordlessly passed his NERV issue credit card off to Boy Fashion-wonder.

"Anotnio," Thomas finally managed, "How do you know so much about this stuff?"

"My mom is a designer. She brought her work home pretty often, and I just sorta grew up with it."

"But you actually seem to _like_ it."

"Ain't no crime in a guy looking snazzy, homes." Thomas conceded the point. Moments later, an indignant Helen was brought over by the willowy host.

"What do you mean, I have bad taste!"

"Exactly as I said, miss. This fine young gentleman will certainly find a dress much better than the ghastly thing you had picked out." Helen snorted. Antonio walked over, looked her up and down appraisingly, moved his hands about an inch over her bust, hips, and waist, and as Helen was about to flip on him, he rattled off her measurements exactly to the host, and then raised a brow as she caught herself from pitching a fit.

"Hmm. With her blue eyes, I'm thinking a gold or bronze with maybe a little deep red accenting. Make the cut less on the suggestive side, it'll be better to have them wondering then to put everything on display. Also, get me the number of your hair stylist. Your hair is perfect, Sir, and her's could use a little work to bring out her full potential." The host nodded, smiling. He rushed off, and a few minutes later, brought back a dress that made Helen gasp. He handed Antonio a card.

"We'll be paying for all of these shortly. Helen, Peter, Thomas, go get your things tailored."

Thomas was left scratching his head. _That kid knows what he's doing. He seems like a whole different person here._

By the time the three had been fitted, it was nearly 1 PM. Antonio hurried them out of the shop after paying a boggling amount of money, calling a cab to take them to a nearby hair salon. Another massive gratuity got them bumped up in line, and by 3, they were back to pick up their clothes.

The Men were already fully dressed and waiting by the time Helen emerged. Thomas gave a bit of applause, Antonio nodded appreciatively, and Peter was beet red. She was absolutely stunning, and the cabbie they had take them to the subway station gave her a wolf whistle once she'd exited.

They were ready for the party. The only question: Was the party ready for them?

000

In NERV HQ's main kitchen, disaster had struck. The catering company that had been hired for the party's main entrees had fallen through at the last minute. There was now a table full of cocktails, plenty of appetizers, and a full wait staff, _but absolutely no food for the guests._ The host was absolutely panicking, when one of the waiters made a bold suggestion.

"Why don't we ask one of the cafeteria places? I bet Greasy Mario would do it."

The Host strode over, about to unleash his fury upon the waiter when another, senior staff member seconded the idea. And then another staff member. And another, and another. Soon the whole wait staff had unanimously agreed that Greasy Mario could cater the event, and do a fine job of it.

The Host was flabbergasted.

"You mean to tell me you'd have some porky Italian guy making pizza for a 4 Star event!"

"Not just any porky Italian guy making pizza..." Came a voice from the now swinging double doors leading into the kitchen. "I'm Greasy Mario, and I do breakfast too. I'd be glad to do it as long as you fellas give me free reign over the kitchen, a nice griddle and a couple of guys who know their way around a pepperoni."

The host's jaw dropped. The staff cheered. Greasy Mario tightened his apron and went to work.

000

The first guests were let into the party at exactly four. While it was not an exclusively couples event, many entered in pairs. They made their way through the well decorated ballroom, marveling. Many guests were surprised by the amount of furniture set up away from the dance floor and dining area of the hall, and how _well_ the whole thing fit together. Whoever had set up the place knew a thing or two about Feng Shui.

From the personal bathroom situated adjacent to his office, Shiro Miura sneezed. He really hoped he wasn't coming down with something. He stepped out of the bathroom in a neat tuxedo, beard trimmed and hair combed. Abigail was already waiting for him, black dress accentuating her shoulder length red hair.

"Are you ready to blow them out of the water, dear?" he said.

Abigail smiled back to him.

"With all that practice, you're liable to show up Fred Astaire, let alone the bridge staff."

"To beat a cliché to death, It takes two to Tango."

"But dear, we'll be doing the jitterbug." she said.

"I don't think they'll care once we start."

And Abigail couldn't argue that one.

000

Lieutenant Royce Folkertz felt awkward. He was at a formal party in a cheap suit without a date. Sure, he'd been there on the bridge when it had all gone down, and thus required to be at the party, but he just didn't fit in.

Then the entrees came out.

He knew that telltale smell of delicious oils, and immediately plowed his way through the crowd to reach the giant trays of pizza and platters of breakfast food.. The guests looked at them quizzically, as if all saying at once _"Are we really supposed to eat pizza and waffles at this sort of party?"_

Royce grabbed a plate, two slices of pizza, and a slice of ham. He walked over to one of the tables, and began to eat.

The dam broke. People got into a rough line for the food, which was soon discovered to be absolutely delicious. Much to his surprise, quite a few people sat next to Royce after they'd gotten their plates. The conversation began lightly enough, but then turned towards culinary discussion. Royce was speaking about the finer points of oils in cooking, when he accidentally slipped he knew Greasy Mario personally. The questions began. Eventually, Royce told them all about Greasy Mario's old franchise, and more than a few among them nodded in recognition. Then there was a mutual gasp when Royce told them that he had been _the_ Greasy Ricky, of Greasy Mario's commercials.

"Those things were on five times a day at least!" blurted an older officer, and Samantha Rey, who had been sitting a seat or two away from him, chimed in with "I had no idea you were so interesting, Royce!"

At one of the windows from the kitchen, Greasy Mario himself wiped a tear from his eye. Royce had always experienced problems socializing, but people were talking to him and he was getting along fine. He went back to dicing pineapple for the Hawaiian that was about to go in the oven, glad he'd gotten this chance to see little Royce grown up.

000

The pilots and Thomas met up with Major Maxwell Todd on the way into the building, and he and Antonio had a relaxed conversation about Angel killing. Helen and Peter let them talk. Helen, basking in the glory of how _pretty _she was, only barely noticed Peter's attempts not to stare. Thomas took up the rear, hands in pockets. After speaking briefly with Todd, he'd been glad to not be the only one without a date. Being 15 and not having a date was one thing, but being 29? It kind of stung.

Not that he really wanted one, but still. There was still ten minutes of walk left to get to the ballroom, so Thomas zoned out.

His thoughts drifted back to a different time, to when he'd first met Mari.

000

At a NERV testing range in Nevada, there was an explosion and the choir of dissonance that accompanied an Angel. Evangelion Unit 03 rose, breaking free of its restraints and ripping loose of the bulwark around it.

General Jared Morris watched this from a live feed. He saw his best traditional weapons get thrown aside like playthings, their shells and bullets doing nothing to the towering Evangelion.

"Alright, enough. Grant NERV permission to deploy Unit 04. Tell them to eliminate the target ASAP."

A 14 year old Thomas Rydell whooped as his Eva was catapulted from the base 50 files away on magnetic rails. The Eva flew in an arc, and as soon as it started to fall, Thomas spun his legs like a long jumper, and hit the ground running with enough force to crack the ground for a quarter mile around his point of impact.

"That's more like it! Come on, where's that damn Angel!"

"Calm down, Thomas. Your primary target is the angel, but try to keep collateral to a minimum while you're at it." said the General over the comm link.

"Yeah, yeah. Where's it at?"

That was about the time Bardiel came into view. The Eva was covered in a blueish tar-like substance.

"Can we assume the core is in the plug?"

"No. The Angel may have set its core up in the Evangelion's. If it is in the plug however, we may be able to salvage the Unit."

"I'll just rip the plug out first, then!"

Before the General could protest, Unit 04 dashed forward, sweeping at Unit 03's legs. It jumped, and as Thomas rolled away, Two gigantic, eerily humanoid arms came out of the Eva around neck level.

One grabbed the retreating Thomas by the ankle, the other by his arm and dragged him back. Now fully grappled by the Eva turned angel, Thomas was in a spot. The thing's normal arms were pinning him down, while its secondary arms wrapped around his Eva's neck, trying to snap it.

Thomas was about to panic when his training kicked in. Using everything he had, he pushed off the ground, propelling his Eva's head into the Angel's for a headbutt that left both Evas with cracked armor, but Thomas free of the hold. He grabbed his progressive knife out of his left shoulder tower, and with a couple neat slices, the extra arms were on the ground. He jumped on the other Eva as it roared in shock, and with a couple knife strikes, the Entry plug had been freed from the rest of the Eva.

Unit 03 looked at him with an _Ohnoudin't_ glare and punched him right in the face. Thomas reeled back from the blow, Entry plug in one hand, Prog knife in the other. Then Unit 03 made the mistake of charging him.

Thomas tripped it, and between the force of the fall and his stab, the thing had a prog knife jammed all the way into its core.

The Eva shuddered to a halt with a final pained squeal, blue blood leaking from the transformed core.

Minutes later, a full medical team was on the scene, and Thomas was standing only a few yards away when they opened the plug. They hauled out an Asian girl, and they desperately performed CPR on her as Thomas watched.

"_Damn shame. She's awful cute."_

A defibrillator shock brought her back to life with a nasty coughing fit.

She looked up at Unit 04 and Thomas, smiling weakly as the medical team got her into a medevac helicopter.

"_Well well well."_

000_  
><em>

Thomas snapped back to the here and now as they entered the ballroom and the dull roar became raucous cheering. The made their way to the front amidst the applause and fanfare, where some very forward thinking person had deemed it a good idea to set up a microphone.

Thomas took the mic and cleared his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the first official NERV after battle celebration!"

There was cheering.

"May I introduce our heroes, the Evangelion Pilots, and of course, Mmmmmmmmajor Maxwell Todd!

More cheering.

"I understand this is to be a formal dinner, but I'm personally glad they're serving pizza and waffles. It makes the fact I'm dateless tonight a bit easier to handle. Am I right, Singles?"

There was laughter from the crowd.

"At any rate, if any of these fine individuals would like to say something, let's give the floor up to them."

None of them stepped forward, and Thomas continued unabashed.

"We'll see how talkative they are after a couple cocktails."

More laughter.

"Alright folks, we've got a wonderful band, wonderful food, and most of all, wonderful company. Let's enjoy the night, shall we?"

000

The band selection had been at the insistence of the Operations director and his Wife. They were a group that specialized in Pre-impact dance music, and were one of the most sought after bands in New Houston. People filtered onto the dance floor gradually after the meal, and they played mostly slower songs for the first set. Around 6, however, the first set ended. To everyone's surprise, Shiro Miura of all people took the mic as the musicians properly adjusted their equipment for the following songs.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I welcome you to the portion of the party my wife and I have been waiting for."

Some wise guy from the crowd hollered "The Roman Orgy?" and there was a wave of laughter. Shiro turned red and Abigail seized the mic from him.

"That's after the party. Right now, it's time for the dance!"

On cue, the band began playing "Footloose" and the crowd absolutely _lost it._

The dance floor was packed, but Abigail and Shiro elbowed their way to the center.

"Ready, dear?" she asked him. He was grinning.

"Born ready, Abigail."

People at the edges of the dance floor wondered why the _outside_ was slowly becoming more crowded, and then they too joined the mass of people watching in awe as the Operations Director and his wife _cut the floor._

They were in perfect synch for the opening. When the chorus finally hit, the impressive routine became _mind boggling._ They were slinging each other all over the dance floor, Shiro flipped Abigail around his shoulders twice, and she made a 10 point knee slide landing. Shiro ran up and vaulted over her, landing in a _goddamn cartwheel_. The routine ended with them sweating in each others arms, facing the crowd.

There was a brief moment of silence before _every single person on the dance floor simultaneously and completely lost their shit._

000_  
><em>

As Shiro and Abigail were being carried off the dance floor by the adoring crowd and the band switched to an upbeat jazzy number, Maxwell Todd made a point to try and socialize. He really would rather not have been at this party, but they'd thrown it partly for him in the first place, so he figured he'd oblige and try to have some fun. He was currently missing a clan skirmish, which rubbed him the wrong way about the whole thing in the first place. Didn't they know clans _always_ skirmished on Sundays?

He was busy talking to a woman who was obviously enamored with her vision of him as some gallant knight in shining armor. She was laughing hysterically at all his jokes, bad as they were, and _would not calm down._

"Lady," He started, "This is a party. We have all accepted the fact that there are cocktails. This does not mean you had to drink seven of them in an hour and a half."

"I can hold my liquor!" she said defensively.

"You're holding the martini upside down."

"That's because it's empty."

"_That's because it's upside down."_

Maxwell Todd walked away, shaking his head.

3-D P-D, man.

000

The Quincunx observed the party from its many security cameras in the ballroom. The Five had decided to throw a party of their own, and it was vastly less exciting then the party the Humans were having.

Node #3 was having some digital cake, and Node #1 was slurring its binary. Nodes #5 and #2 were locked in heated discussion, and Node #4 was being a bit of a wallflower. Overall, it was a bit of a sausage fest. If only the MAGI could've been convinced to come over, then they'd have at least some femininity there. Alas, the MAGI didn't respond to its calls like usual. Probably had something to due when it was just a juvenile AI and it made all those rude comments about its processor.

"Well," Node #2 said in binary, "If this party blows, why don't we live by proxy and make their party better?"

"A good idea. However, their party seems to be going quite well." Node #5 replied.

"Then why don't we improve it for anyone who isn't having a good time?"

"An even better idea. I will Query the Five. Query: Should we improve the party for those who cannot improve it for themselves?"

"Yes" replied the five immediately.

000

Peter was seated in orbit of the main set of occupied tables. Helen, some 5 tables distant, was the life of the party, it seemed. Every boy old enough to notice a girl was practically salivating, and every girl old enough to be jealous was. Peter had already come down off of most of his caffeine buzz, and was just starting to get a bit shaky when he received a message on his smart phone. Pulling it out, he read the short message.

"Go to her."

The sender was anonymous.

Peter sat there for a moment before his phone buzzed again.

"What are you waiting for?"

The sender was still anonymous.

No time like the present, he supposed.

He sat up and made his way over to the table. The 16 year old son of a scientist gave him a smug once over when he showed up.

"So, the Pilot who can't even pilot shows up." Helen didn't looked thrilled, but she said nothing. "Why don't you go grab us some punch, big guy? It's all you're useful for, after all."

Peter straightened, and with a sweeping bow, took Helen's hand.

"May I take this dance, Ms. Guest? I'm not quite as talented as Director Miura, but I do know my way around the dance floor."

Helen was surprised, but she turned and looked at the other boys assembled.

"I'll see you all later, then. Toodles!" and waved back as Peter led her to the dance floor, leaving a very irritated young man with his friends sniggering at him.

Between songs, Peter strode up to the singer, and whispered something to him. The singer shook his head, and Peter whispered again. The musician looked a bit panicked, and nodded.

The band, who had been playing a set of light jazz, hooked up some extra audio equipment in a rush, the crowd murmuring as to what exactly was going on.

"What did you say?" Helen asked upon his return.

"First I asked for a waltz. Then I _demanded_ one."

Then, the orchestral music flowed through the speakers. The dance floor emptied immediately, leaving only a stoic Peter and suddenly self conscious Helen out there.

Peter stepped back, bowed to her, and offered his hand. With a gulp, she took it.

Peter began the waltz with a single sentence:

"Follow my lead."

The two spun around and around in perfect time to the music. Helen's feet, though she had never waltzed before, did not falter as Peter led her through the opening parts of the dance. The music picked up pace and they moved, faster and faster, the moves becoming more and more complicated. The Audience was in awe. Then, slowly, some of the older couples joined the two on the dance floor. The Waltz was somber but powerful. By the end, six other couples had been added, and as the dance ended to wild applause, Helen felt a rush like nothing she'd ever felt before. She was in his arms. They looked into each others eyes... and then both turned away, blushing. He let her go as they left the dance floor, and the two returned to Peter's table. There was an awkward silence. Finally, Peter broke it.

"That was quite good for a first dance, Ms. Guest."

"Thank you, Peter. I... enjoyed it."

There was more silence.

"Peter... Where did you learn to dance like that?"

"The nuns said I should learn how to waltz when I young. I received lessons until I was accepted as a priest-in-training."

Helen sat there for a moment. Then she asked Peter something he hadn't even though of himself yet.

"So are you still a priest-in-training?" Peter hesitated.

"No, I suppose not."

She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

"Thank you for the dance, Peter." she said, sitting up and walking away, leaving a dumbstruck Peter in his chair, possibly to contemplate what had just happened, or possibly leaving time for his brain to start working again.

000

The Quincunx had one more wrong to right that evening. Antonio had been talking with a group of girls his age, but none of them were particularly... his flavor. He liked them spicy, and these chicas just didn't have it, you know?

His phone buzzed, and he looked at the text message he had just received.

"Look to your left. 4 O'clock." Sender: Anonymous.

He did it by knee jerk reaction, and saw a hispanic girl. He said Girl, because he meant it. She looked like she was maybe 12, 13 tops.

What did she have to do with anything?

His phone buzzed again.

"She's 16. Trust me." Sender: Anonymous.

The internet had long ago taught him not to trust Anonymous. But then again, what did he have to lose by talking to her?

He approached her and was about to say hello when she turned to him and looked up at him, glowering.

"If you're going to ask me where my parents are, I'm going to punch you _right _in the johnson."

Okay, that had piqued his attention.

"Never said I would. Plus, you're older than me, right? Why would you need them?"

Her stone cold glare broke into puzzlement.

"How did you know that?"

"I have my sources."

"You're going to tell me right now or I'm going to yell that you were touching my chest."

_Damn, missy here plays hardball. _

"Fine, I got an Anonymous text message that pointed you out."

"Odd. I received one that told me to walk this way. Does anyone know both our numbers?"

"I doubt it, But I'd like to know yours."

"What was that?" she asked, raising a brow.

"That was a pickup line."

"Try again."

"Baby, are you Napalm? Cuz' you leave me breathless and on fire."

"Colder. Way Colder."

"Can I stammer awkwardly and ask for your phone number several times until you grudgingly give it out to me, and then have you wait for my call until I muster up the guts to actually do it, and then almost shoot me down but not quite until through the power of mutual attraction and lots of unresolved sexual tension, we finally hook up?"

"You could have asked normally, but _damn_."

"C-can I have your phone number?" he asked with a grin.

"No." She said smiling a bit.

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Oh, ALRIGHT." she said, almost outright giggling at this point, and punched in her number into Antonio's phone.

"Thanks,... Eva." The pilot said, the irony hitting him like a sack of bricks.

"So, what are you doing here? My folks work here, so..."

"Weren't you here at the beginning of the party?"

"Nope, we were a little late."

"Funny story, actually..."

000

Now in sight of the red planet, The third angel shot through space. It had heard of its brother's demise. It had seen the battle in its mind's eye. Now, it would be prepared to take vengeance.

_**Brothers. I Noriel, will lead the next charge.**_

_**I am not as hasty as those before me. **_

_**I will destroy them from safety**_

_**Untouchable in my cunning. **_

_**Upon my fire shall ride their woe,**_

_**and upon my wisdom we shall be guided to victory. **_

_**Let them wallow in their baseities. **_

_**For I, Noriel, The Fire of God, will engulf them once and for all.**_


	8. Light the Way: Chapter 8

The party had gone splendidly. The event had lasted until nearly midnight, when the Director had to break it up himself by informing the guests that they all still had work tomorrow, and it wouldn't do to have their kids missing class in the morning. It wasn't a hard shutdown, and some stragglers lingered on till nearly 2, but the ballroom was quiet and empty by 3 that morning.

The pilots and Thomas had gone home towards the end, and by the time they had made it back, they were all exhausted. Peter and Helen weren't making eye contact, and Antonio was busy texting 'A friend' he'd met at the party. Thomas supposed he'd figure things out in the morning, and bid the kids goodnight, flopping down on his bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

It was a fitful sleep, however, and his waking dreams were memories of the past

**Chapter 8: Ghosts of the Past.**

Thomas leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He gave it 10 seconds to let the general almost boil over before finally speaking.

"I suppose I could be bothered to do it, general, on one condition."

"And what condition is that, Rydell? The Vatican treaty's already been nullified, we can't pull any more strings here." the general growled.

"You set me up with that other Eva pilot once she's feelin' better. Her name was Mary or something, right?"

"Mari, Rydell. Her name's Mari, and she probably won't be out of the hospital for two weeks, maybe more. It's partially your responsibility she was hurt like that in the first place."

"And it's _all_ of her responsibility that her Eva was taken over." Thomas retorted, leaning forward. "I saved her, and she should be grateful."

The general ground his teeth but said nothing.

"Anyway, sure, I'll go to Japan and kick some angel ass. It'll give me something better to do than sitting around waiting for something exciting to happen."

"We'll be sending you off as per NERV's requests by 0800 Hours. See off your friends and have your things packed by then." Thomas nodded lazily at the general, and walked out.

The general turned around in his office chair and took a long look out the window.

"That poor, poor kid."

000

It would have been accurate to say Thomas Rydell had no friends. It would also have been accurate to say he didn't want any, as well. Not because of raw hate for humanity, or a prickly exterior, or even shyness.

Thomas Rydell didn't have friends because no-one on base was interesting enough. His father had long ago bailed out on him to go womanizing and drinking his boring life away, and his mother... Well, she'd never really been there. Reported missing by his father years ago, no arrests made or body found. Thomas had some hazy recollection of her, but whatever. He was his own man, and at 14 to boot! Not to mention, he was an Evangelion pilot. He _owned_ this place. He'd miss his lackeys a bit, but hey, there may be interesting people in Tokyo-3 as well. A city that big has gotta have somebody, right?

Not like this Po'dunk little base in Nevada. Thomas would've gone to Siberia if it meant a change of scenery and an interesting conversation.

When Thomas had gone to bed that night, he had dreamed big, like always.

000

There was a scream of pain, the sound of rending metal, an angelic choir of dissonance. Thomas woke up sweating bullets in his bedroom in New Houston. He sat up, cradling his head in his hand. It was just before dawn, and he couldn't justify going back to sleep. Rolling out of bed, Thomas made his way wearily to a surprisingly penguin-less shower. He cranked the temperature to 'As low as it goes' and shivered as the frigid water blasted away his exhaustion.

Thomas was already dressed and eating breakfast when the first of the pilots crawled out of bed. Helen came out of her room looking absolutely awful, and plopped down at the dining table with a yawn.

"Good morning, starshine. The Earth says hello." Thomas said, chuckling a bit.

"Stuff it, Thomas."

"I wouldn't be saying anything if I wasn't as big of a mess as you are when I woke up an hour ago."

Helen glared at him. Her eyes were puffy and a bit bloodshot. Thomas's chuckling subsided, and he looked concerned.

"Helen, are you alright? Now that I get a better look at you, it looks less 'Late night' and more like you were, well..."

"Well? _Well what?_"

"Like you were crying." She looked down and away.

_Bingo. _Thomas thought.

"You wanna talk about it? I doubt the other two are gonna be up for a while." She shook her head.

"I think it would do you some good. Sometimes adults know a thing or two kids don't."

"I... I don't know what to do."

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, Helen. Do about what?" She broke down crying..

"About l-last night. It was all so clear and vivid then... It was so nice. Then I kissed him and, and-"

Thomas thought about the previous night's events. _Kissed him? Kissed who? _Then he realized that two of the pilots had been utterly silent on the way home.

"That certainly does complicate things, Helen. What happened, exactly?"

"W-we danced, and it was the nicest thing someone's done for me in ages, I felt so happy, and then we sat down, he said he didn't feel like he was a priest in training anymore, and I kissed him. It felt like the right thing at the time, but the look on his face, he was shocked, and I, and I just walked away! I thought- I didn't know what I was thinking."

"Helen, try to calm down, okay? I can't vouch for Peter directly, but the way he was staring at you a couple times last night was less saintly and more, well, normal."

Helen's face was in her hands. and Thomas wondered _what_ was going on in that head of hers. She really didn't have much of a reason to be this distraught over last night's events, even if they hadn't gone for the best. Maybe Eric wasn't the only one of these kids who'd come with plenty of baggage.

"I'm not going to pry, but are you worried about something besides just that you kissed him and he was surprised?"

She nodded. Thomas took a deep breath and forged onward.

"Helen, I don't know you very well. You've only been here a week, and I understand if there's some shock about the move. I've been so busy that we haven't really gotten a chance to talk. Helen, everybody has worries and cares, and as your current guardian, I ought to know at least some of them. If you want, I'm here to listen. If you want, I'm here to give advice. If you want, I can just shut up and leave you be, but you gotta vent to someone or it just wrecks you from the inside out.

Helen looked up, no longer crying.

"I... don't tell anyone this. Please... When my dad died, I lived with... with my grandfather for a while. I was Six when he took me in, and he... well, he believed in corporal punishment, and was strict. He hit me. All the time. The last time, when I was Nine, it hurt so bad I finally called the police when he went out two days later. By then, I was used to hurting, but I, I was angry with him. The police came, took me away, and I never heard from him again."

Thomas felt empty, utterly, and completely empty. He finally spoke.

"You grandfather hurt you. You needed to be away from him, it was good the police made the arrest."

"You don't understand. The police didn't arrest him. There were men in suits who took him away, not the police. They published an obituary a week after. They said he'd died peacefully in his sleep."

Thomas had a hand against his forehead. This was gonna be tricky. Helen had some issues, and it was going to be like walking on eggshells from here on out.

"What is Peter to you?" he asked.

"Peter? I... guess he's a friend."

"You've known him for less than a week. Do you really even care about him, or do you just want someone to protect you without harming you?"

Helen tried to find words to respond with, but nothing came to her.

"I had wondered as much. It always seems like Pilots are the ones who have it the worst. Helen, think about this very carefully. Where will this present course with Peter lead you? And once you figure that out, what will you do about said course?"

"I want to know him. He's just so, so nice. I kissed him because I didn't want him to start drifting apart from me. I want to know him, but does he want to know me? I don't know. I feel like I ruined the whole thing."

"Helen, this is a setback. It's not the end of anything, unless you want it to be. You're not the only one who's ever messed up. My advice? The best thing you could do at this point is rewind the relationship a bit. Peter's going to take a while to come out of his shell it seems, so if you do like him, and keep liking him, it'll be a long road at the very least." Helen looked at him with forlorn eyes.

"And how do _you_ know all this, Thomas?" she said, a bit incredulous.

"The same kind thing happened to me when I was about your age, Helen. It wasn't easy, but the two of us... Well, we..." Thomas paused for a moment. Helen saw him blink a couple times, then shake his head.

"Sorry... We salvaged the relationship, Helen. It was a long and perilous road, but we eventually came to the conclusion that we were better together than we thought. And let me tell you, did we get off to a _rocky_ start." Helen looked rather surprised.

"So, where's your 'significant other' now?" Helen said, a bit more coarsely than she'd intended.

"Helen, _she _died a very, very long time ago." Helen looked like she had been slapped.

"Oh, I- I didn't-" Thomas' hackles went down a bit. It had been a kneejerk reaction, albeit one he immediately regretted.

"It's alright, you didn't know. Just try not to bring it up, okay? It's still a sore point for me. As for you, try to start things off more slowly. How about try telling him good morning and being cheery around him to begin with?" Helen nodded. "Now, go clean up. Nobody ought to be seen like you are right now." she obligingly went off to the shower, and Thomas had some sweet alone time with his bowl of "Sugar Suplexes" (Subdue your hunger the fun way!) and cup of coffee.

_This is probably just the tip of the iceberg, too. I hope Antonio and Peter have had an easier time of it than Helen. Why is it always the kids who need help the most who never get it?_ Thomas thought, taking a final sip of coffee.

In desperate need of a cheering up, Thomas made sure no one was looking and reached his hand all the way down to the bottom of the cereal box. He felt around for a moment, then reeled out the toy at the bottom. It was a 3 inch replica of a famous pre-impact wrestler. The box said it would 'Suplex his spoon' and as Thomas set up the wrestler and his silverware, Antonio walked out.

"Homes, _what_ are you doing?" Antonio asked.

"I'm suplexing my spoon with the wrestling power of Crunk Fullman. Wanna watch?"

"Homes, you're still playing with cereal toys? That's just sadden-" Anotnio was cut short when the tiny wrestler did a surprisingly good suplex on the spoon in question.

Antonio and Thomas stared as the spoon was retrieved in two pieces.

"Homes... Did I just see that right?"

"Yes, it broke an Aluminum spoon in half."

"_Sweet."_ they both breathed at once.

000

"You know Homes, even though the thing can barely fit a thin spoon handle in it, it can't be safe."

"Quiet Antonio. This is our final test."

"Homes, I gotta admit the fact you have a spoon sized, titanium rod is fascinating, but what happens if the unstoppable force meets an immovable object?" On the table with the three inch wrestler lay the broken remains of everything spoon-sized in the apartment. Currently in Crunk Fullman's arms of annihilation was a small rod of solid titanium alloy. Thomas didn't know why he had it, or where he'd even gotten it from. He was just glad he had it for this singular moment.

"Perhaps Dr. Miura could tell us, but then we'd have to show this thing to her, and it would eventually make its way to Kensuke Aida, which would be a _very_ bad thing. So for now, let's make history, shall we?"

Thomas set the spring system on the wrestler, which gave it a now calculated 8.45 seconds to Suplex. Thomas Dashed behind the couch they were using as cover in case things got hairy.

8.

7.

6.

5.

4.

3.

2.

1...

There was the telltale "Sproing" of the springs going off, and then... nothing.

Thomas glanced over at the table.

The rod had held.

Thomas was about to get up when there has a hideous squeal, and with a disgusting grinding sound and finally a "SNAPASH" Half of the titanium rod was flung into the Sheetrock wall where it hit with the force of an arrow. The other half rolled gently across the table.

"_Holy crap."_ They both managed. Eight time champion Crunk Fullman was unstoppable even in toy form.

Thomas looked over at the rod embedded in the wall, whistling appreciatively. He went over, and tried to pull it out. It did not budge.

"I think it's _in the stud._ That thing isn't coming out. Whew, landlord's gonna have my ass if he finds out..."

Antonio casually went over to the wall, and moved a painting from its original place to hang on the bit of exposed titanium rod.

"All fixed Homes." He said with a thumbs up.

000

The kids went off to school just after 8 that morning. Thomas had been given a mandatory "extra day of leave" to de-stress after the angel attack, and he had no clue what to do with it.

_What did Katsuragi do on her days off? Oh, she never took them. So much for some inspiration. _

He had to help Eric move in after school, but until then, he was absolutely free. This meant absolutely bored to Thomas, and he began the morning watching TV.

After an hour of some inane morning show, He flipped the set off.

"No sense in just lazing around the apartment. I might as well go out and be a bother." he said grinning to himself.

Thomas put on a decent over shirt and a pair of slacks, and waltzed out of the apartment to go and see some old friends.

000

His first stop was the Suzuhara household. Perched on a gentle hill in one of New Houston's most charming neighborhoods, it was by no means a small house. Thomas' minivan was right at home with the flock of similar vehicles parked in the driveways and on the streets. He hopped out, grabbing the small gifts he'd purchased for the kids. As Honorary 'Suzuhara uncle-guy!", he was the driving force in spoiling Toji's kids rotten. After a 'Shave and a haircut' knock on the front door and the flustered barking of the family dog caught unawares, Mrs. Hikari Suzuhara herself answered the door.

"Thomas! You said you'd be by, but you never call right before hand. I guess men really never _do_ learn."

"Does this mean Toji's being obnoxious again?"

"He almost missed our anniversary, the lunk. Good thing he looked at the calendar the day of and called in sick."

Thomas laughed. It was always nice to see old friends. The Suzuharas had been Thomas' best friends in the five years after the mess in Tokyo-3, and he'd missed them mightily the past Nine they'd been over here.

"So, I don't suppose Toji is here, is he?" Hikari shook her head and Thomas grinned.

"You know as well as I do what that means." Thomas said as he removed a brown bag from behind his back.

"Hey, Ken! Naomi! Your 'Uncle' is here!" A couple of bleary eyed kids came walking out into the hall, and they lit up when they saw Thomas at the door.

"UNCLE TOMMY!" They screamed, rushing to the door and almost taking him out at the knees.

"Didja bring us presents!" The boy, who wasn't much older than four said, a gigantic grin on his face.

"Ken! Don't ask for gifts! It's rude to-"

"Of course I did! I hope you still like cars, Ken." Thomas said, handing the shiny eyed child a race car toy. Naomi, the shy and polite one, said nothing.

"And of course, I didn't forget about you, Naomi. I'm not so good at stuff for girls, but a friend gave me some advice on picking these out." he handed her a pair of Sunflower hair clips. She smiled brightly at him.

Hikari was a bit distant as Thomas talked to the kids. He sent them on their way after having words with Naomi about kindergarten and telling Ken that his dream of being a racer was a good one, and he should go for it all the way.

The two kids roared away, and Hikari was about to break the silence when Thomas did so himself.

"I miss her so much." he said simply.

"Thomas, it's been 15 years. The past is the past, it's unchangeable. You're going to have to move on."

"Hikari, you're a good friend. You know most of the things that went on back then, but..."

"But what?"

"I haven't told a soul about what happened in the last moments."

"She's gone, Thomas. The angel killed her, you killed the angel."

"Not... exactly." Thomas said. It looked like this conversation was hurting him.

"What do you mean, Not exactly?" Hikari asked.

"In the last moments before... well, before she was... taken, Our minds crossed. We saw each other as the other saw us. She saw how I really felt about her. She saw my soul laid bare, she saw how I was a lying, controlling, narcissistic bastard, and I saw what kind of person she was. Determined, strong, and above all else, kind. In that last second, she saw who I really was and not only did she forgive me, _she accepted me for what I was._ Hikari, all the pilots had issues, myself very much included. We were child soldiers in a war that would have broken people twice as old and twice as grounded as we were. None of us came out unscathed, but for me, the battle and the loss made me realize what really mattered and what didn't. I cannot let the memory dull because it is the most important turning point of my entire life. Because of her, my life changed. I cannot ever forget that."

She was silent.

"All that said, I really could use a hug right now." Thomas said weakly.

Hikari was glad to oblige.

000

Dr. Weller was _absolutely_ furious. Not only had he been shipped up to NERV Luna to run 'inspections' and utterly ignored up there by all of Gendou's lackeys, as soon as he'd come back He'd been replaced with some Four eyed 'Mad genius' straight out of the containment zone, who had _already commandeered his office._ The Arrogant little bastard had even gone so far as to replace the name plate on the door of his office with one that apparently read "Kensuke Aida" in _Klingon_ of all nonsense. Weller stormed to the Operations Director's office, where Shiro Miura was busy fiddling with one of those "Ball clacker" executive toys, waiting for more paperwork to sign.

"Director!" The doctor said, the anger apparent in his voice. "What is this nonsense about Kensuke Aida being the new head of the Eva program?"

"Co-head, Doctor. You've still got just as much power as he does."

"He's an utter madman!"

"We here at NERV tend to pride ourselves on our lack of traditional sanity."

"He's already proven he's incapable of the job!"

"He re-proved his capability in the last Angel battle."

"HE TOOK MY OFFICE!" Wailed Dr. Weller finally.

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought the architecture of the room was terrible."

Dr. Weller slumped. When you had less force of personality than _Shiro Miura_ of all people, you knew you had a serious problem.

"Any other concerns, Doctor?

"Where's my new office, then...?"

"Right down the hall from your old one."

_Well, if it's on the same floor, it has to be around the same size._ Weller surmised.

Shiro could barely contain his grin as the SEELE planted Doctor left the room. Maybe he couldn't overtly defy their machinations, but he was going to make it miserable for whoever they sent here. He almost wanted to follow the Doctor to his new 'Office', but that would make things to obvious. He'd just ask the Quincunx for the security camera footage of his face later.

Then he could make _copies._

000_  
><em>

By the time Thomas had gotten out of the Suzuhara house, it was almost noon.

"Well, that shoots most of my other plans in the foot. Hm. I suppose I could try giving _her_ a ring..."

Thomas dialed the number into his phone, let it ring 7 times, hung up, then dialed again, and then it rung 7 more times before being answered.

"Thomas! Hey, I'm a tad bit busy right now... But I've got a few minutes until the alarms go off."

"On a mission, Misato? You'd best keep quiet then."

"I'm half a mile away providing sniper cover. I've got a little time. So, how are things in New Houston?"

"Good, good. I had no idea things would be so hectic with an apartment full of pilots."

"Hahaha! So you're pulling a Katsuragi on them, huh? Any of 'em get spooked outta the shower by Penpen?"

"Yeah, Helen did. Fortunately, she still had most of her clothes on."

"Thomas, you better be treating those kids better than I ever treated Shinji or I'll snap you like a twig."

"I'm doing my best here, Misato. It's tougher than I thought but they're good kids. Better than I ever was, at least."

"Good, g-" Misato's reply was cut short by the crack of a sniper rifle and the click of a rechamber.

"Looks like shit's hit the fan, Thomas~. Talk to you later, okay?" The other line went dead, and Thomas pocketed his phone.

"Some things just don't change, do they?"

000

Meanwhile, at Pizzaklown HQ in Omaha, trouble was brewing. One of the accountants had noticed a steadily decreasing profit margin in one of their highest grossing establishments in the nation. He made some calls, and when he had gotten word of the whole situation, wrote a report for the boss himself. He hurried through the massive office building that the company central division occupied, making his way to the elevator that would bring him to the "Pizza Penthouse", AKA Roberto Rigatoni's office.

The accountant humbly stepped in.

"Sir, I have a very important report for you." The boss' chair had its back turned to him.

"Go ahead."

"It seems that the NERV HQ restaurant is losing money steadily."

"Impossible. It's our highest earning one in the country. Evidence, or I'll have you 'Escorted' out of my office."

"Well sir... I made some call to double check, but there appears to be a rival pizza company in the cafeteria. It's the worst case scenario, sir. He has returned."

The chair swiveled around rapidly to reveal the boss himself.

"What did you say...?" The boss growled, a threatening air to his voice.

"Sir. It has been confirmed that there is a Greasy Mario's in the NERV HQ cafeteria."

The boss was silent for a moment, then spoke.

"Have it dealt with."

000

Greasy Mario shivered, then got back to work. It was lunchtime in the packed cafeteria, and Greasy Mario was having a difficult time keeping up with the customers. The time he had dreaded was upon him: He was going to have to hire some new blood.

As soon as word spread that Greasy Mario's was hiring, the applications began pouring in. In less than a week, Greasy Mario's had become a phenomenon amongst NERV staff. The main line still got the majority of traffic, but the franchises had lost about a quarter of their normal customers to Greasy Mario. If you were gonna eat something unhealthy, at least it should taste good.

Most of the job applicants were children of NERV staff looking for an after school job, which still left the man in a pinch during Lunch and breakfast hours, and since his business was open for all three mealtimes, he couldn't afford to just hire teenagers. Especially since they usually made bad workers. No ethic, even if they were good kids.

Then, after having to sadly reject another interviewee, he came across a godsend.

"Willing to work Mornings, Lunch rush, weekends, holidays. Great work ethic, knows his way around a pepperoni. Has received a master's degree in computer science..." Greasy Mario read aloud with a smile.

Royce's name was at the top of the application. He was hired immediately as Greasy Mario's first employee, and scheduled to work lunch the very next day.

000

At about the same time, Eric was sitting by himself at a cafeteria table eating lunch. People were still avoiding him, but true to the bet, James had left him alone. He jolted upright when the three pilots came over and sat down by him.

"I... What are you doing here?" Eric asked, more than a bit surprised.

"What does it look like? Sitting with you, Vato."

"I am merely with these two. I am still very much against the concept of homosexuality, but if you are to be a fellow pilot, I should at least know you before I judge you."

"You need to look less grouchy, Eric. You always look so glum, its no wonder nobody wants to sit by you."

"I think it may be for other reasons..." Eric trailed off. Helen's smile was bright, and though Peter was scowling slightly, he didn't look to be angry. Antonio was still giving him that look.

"It's all about attitude, Eric." Helen said cheerily.

"Did Thomas set you up to this?" Eric asked flatly.

"Not really. He just told us to come and talk to you. We could be awful about it and make funny faces at you, you know." Helen said, twisting and scrunching her face. Overall, the effect made Eric chuckle a bit.

"Fair enough. When you see him again, tell him my things are all packed and ready. I'll be ready to move after school."

The four pilots chatted during the lunch hour, Eric visibly brightening throughout.

_Maybe, just maybe... These people are friends._

000_  
><em>

Across the Pacific, at the bottom of an unmarked shaft in the remains of the old NERV HQ in Tokyo-3, there lay four massive bodies. The four were broken, yet they still functioned on the most basic levels. There was a radio playing a gentle lullaby in the middle of the room. The giants stirred as much as they could in their shattered frames. It was time for the visit.

A middle-aged woman with dyed blond hair walked into the room, heels clicking on the cold steel floor. She stands before them, the once mighty Gods of Man.

"Good evening."

There is a rumble from the Giants.

"I suspect you are eager to hear of your children."

The rumble is less harsh, but still with an underlying menace.

"Shinji and Asuka are doing well as always. Thomas has taken command of Combat operations at NERV Houston. He leads the Children of Destiny to victory, as Misato Katsuragi did before him."

There was almost a purr from one of the giants.

_Amazing how a single damaged S2 engine can exude enough power to keep four Units functioning for all these years. This should be the focus of a study, but I doubt I'd be able to conduct it without getting close enough for them to kill me._

The woman was about to walk out, when she remembered the other part of her task down here. She went over to the emergency radio, changed its batteries, and flipped the station to classic rock.

She could have sworn that Unit 04 was humming along to "The Joker", but she must've been hearing things.

The room was once again dark and empty, with only the sound of the music to tell the passage of time.

The four souls convened again to discuss the news.

Yui Ikari, as always, was silent. She merely listened, never acting upon whatever she was thinking. Kyoko Sohryu Langley bubbled about how her child had come so far, Patricia Rydell doing the same. Rei 1 simply sat staring off into space. Then, for the first time in years, Yui Ikari spoke to them.

"I have come to the conclusion..." she began, to the shock of the other souls, "...That we are no longer necessary to the survival of our planet and children, bar one."

"Y-Yui! What do you mean?" Kyoko's soul asked, flabbergasted. .

"Exactly what I say. Our children have saved the world once, moved on, and grown up. We are no longer needed, with the exception of Patricia. Her child has not been saved, and never will be without our help."

"What do you propose we do? None of us can properly move. We will sit at the bottom of this pit until the S2 Engine runs out of power or the world ends."

"Not so." Said Yui, and with great effort, lifted Unit 01's arm a few meters from its resting place. "If we give all we have... We may be able to make a difference in some way."

"We would be lost forever." Said Rei 1, from her corner.

"We would finally find a true death." Yui stated. "Are we in agreement? We must be sure, because the process will be long and arduous."

"Yes." They all said.

And Yui Ikari went to work.


End file.
